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u 



A\ 




jStoriFS for f^p JBoung: 



OR, 



EVENINGS WITH JOHN WOOLMAN. 



By R. p. a. 



"And in later years, how lovely 
Is the track of Woolman's feet: 
And his pure and humble record, 
How serenely sweet ! 

"O'er life's simplest duties, throwin* 
Light, the earthling never knew — 
Freshening all its dark, waste places, 
As with Hermon's dew." 

Whittier. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

1865. 




-%}■■■ 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by 

T. ELLWOOD CHAPMAN, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for 
the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



IIs^TEODUCTION. 

BY A FRIEND. 



This little book has been prepared with a 
view of presenting in a familiar manner to 
ij^ young persons, an outline of the life and 
vK religious labors of the excellent man who is 
its subject. The peculiar simplicity and 
g purity of John Woolman's character, the 
(^ fervor of his efforts to win his fellow-beings 
;;^ into the blessed ways of pleasantness and 
peace, together with the outspoken testi- 
s' mony he bore respecting the unchristian in- 
)C stitution of American Slavery, at a period 
when it required much moral courage to cry 
aloud against a sin, whose turpitude, few, 
even in the nominally religious world, cared 
or dared to expose — all render this good 
man's history a fitting example to be placed 
before the young. The work, however, en- 
titled, ^'Journal of John Woolman,^^ cannot 
be expected to have much attractiveness for 
juvenile readers : yet it has been hoped that 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

sketches from it, in a simj)lified form, thrown 
together under a slight drapery of dialogue, 
might not be without some power of inter- 
esting them. Many incidents, it will be per- 
ceived, are given in the words of John Wool- 
man himself, whose exact, and therefore 
quaint, phraseology has in these cases been 
retained : and a few poetical pieces, some 
selected, some original, are interspersed 
along the narrative. 

May this little volume, which aspires to no 
fame, and seeks only to be useful, be i^ad by 
many a boy and girl ; and while it is trusted 
some young readers may, through its peru- 
sal, learn to love the beauty of a meek and 
holy life, may they strive to imitate in their 
own, something of the conscientiousness, 
gentleness, and benignity, which adorn the 
^^pure and humble record '^ of this beloved 
disciple : and thus the labor of love that an 
earnest friend of 3^outh has bestowed on these 
pages, will have its rich reward. 

A. W. M. 

Oct. 1864, 



SiSTEl iUfll^S SfOilEI 



CHAPTER I. 

^ HE labors of the day were over ; the shutters 
were closed, and the evening lamp was 
lighted, when Effie and Mary Howard, 
seating themselves on each side of their 
loving elder sister Ruth, entreated her not to 
keep them waiting any longer, but to commence 
her long-promised evening stories. Smiling at 
their earnestness, she readily complied with their 
request, believing that in this familiar way she 
could instil much useful knowledge into their 
tender minds — and while she interested them in 
her narrations, she might now and then drop a 
thought, that like " bread cast upon the waters/' 
might be found again ^^ after many days/' 

"Nearly a century and a half ago,'' said she, " in 
the pleasant month of August, 1720, when the flow- 
ers were in bloom, and the trees were laden with 
fruit; a group of little children were kneeling around 

(7) 



8 SISTER ruth's stories. 

the cradle of their baby brother, pressing kisses 
upon the little face, and playing with the tiny 
fingers, while their grave, gentle mother sat near, 
asking, no doubt, in her heart, that blessings might 
descend upon the head of her infant son ; and that 
wisdom might be given her to guide his steps 
aright, and to sow in his tender mind good seed, 
that might bring forth fruit to the glory of God. 
And her prayers were answered, for he became a 
'^brio'ht and shinins; lis^ht*/^ one who, like the 
prophets of old, enjoyed high communion with 
the Father of Spirits. He drank deep of " Siloa's 
brook, that flowed fast by the oracles of God ;" and 
early in life he went forth as a messenger of the 
good tidings of the gospel of peace ; and concern- 
ing his ministry, this record is left, that in ^^ pa- 
tience and humility, he endured many deep bap- 
tisms," and thereby became '' sanctified and fitted 
for the Lord's work ;'' and that the spring of the 
gospel ministry often flowed through him, with 
great sweetness and purity as a refreshing stream 
to the weary travellers towards the city of God." 

Effie, breaking the silence that followed these 
words, said, '^ I wonder why it is that all the great 
and good people that we read of, must have so 
much sorrow; it almost makes me shudder to 
think of it." Her sister replied in the expressive 
language of the Saviour, so beautifully paraphrased 
by the poet — 



SISTER RUTH S STORIES. \) 

"Wide is the gate and broad the way 
That open to perdition , 
And countless multitudes are they 
Who seek admission. 

*'But straight the gate, the path unkind, 
That lead to life immortal; 
And few the careful feet that find 
The hidden portal. 

"All common good has common price, 
Exceeding good exceeding ; 
Christ bought the keys of Paradise 
By cruel bleeding. 

"And every soul that wins a place, 
Upon its hills of Pleasure, 
Must give its all, and beg for grace 
To fill the measure." 

It does seem inscrutable to ns, that there should 
be so much sorrow and suffering in this beautiful 
world ; but as the silver is purified in the furnace, 
and the dross separated from the fine gold by the 
fire — as the wheat is passed through the threshing 
instrument^ that the worthless chaff may be sepa- 
rated from the good grain ; so by suffering, all that 
is low and worthless and trivial, is consumed and 
scattered, and there is opportunity given for the 
good, the high, the spiritual that is left, to develop 
gradually, aspiring ever towards perfection/' Their 
invalid sister, Anna, whO; reclining upon her couch, 



10 SISTER ruth's stories. 

had been intently listening to the conversation, 
her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and her 
pale face irradiated with peaceful smiles, now ad- 
dressed her sister : '' Yes, dear Ruth, it does 
seem wonderful ; great is the mystery of suffering 
— and, as thou hast just said, finite man may not 
understand it. But does not the inspired apostle 
somewhere say, ^' For we reckon that the sufferings 
of this present time are not worthy to be compared 
with the glory that shall be revealed in us.'^ And 
remember, that, although the Israelites journeyed 
forty years ' in the wilderness, yet there the pre- 
cious manna was given — and there they reposed 
by Elim's fountains, beneath the palm's refreshing 
shade. Although their feet went down into the 
depths of Jordan, yet from thence they brought 
up ^^ stones of memorial.'^ It was not till after 
Bunyan's Pilgrim had fought with Apollyon in 
the *' Vale of Humiliation,^' — and weary, faint of 
heart, had traversed the " dark valley of the sha- 
dow of death,'' that the Shepherds led him to the 
top of the Delectable Mountains, from whose 
summits he could catch bright glimpses of the 
Celestial city. Not till the ^^ beloved disciple" 
had followed in the footsteps of the Master, pa- 
tiently enduring persecution, scorn and shame for 
His sake — ready even to offer up his life for Him ; 
not till exiled from his home, a dweller in the 



SISTER RUTII'S STORIES. 11 

lonely isle of Patmos, for the '' word of God and 
the testimony of Jesus Christ/^ was he permitted 
to see the glorious vision of the Beautiful City, 
where flows the " Eiver of the water of Life/' and 
where the '' Tree of Life grows for the healing 
of the nations/^ Be assured, my sisters, that 
^^Afflictions spring not forth from the dust," — 
there is a joy even in the midst of grief, and, 
although 

*' Sorrow must crop ench passion-slioot, 
And pain, each Inst infernal, 
Or human life can bear no fruit 
To life eternal. 

<'Yet angels wait on Providence, 
And mark the sundered places, 
To graft with gentlest instruments 
The heavenly graces." 

^' But, dear sister," said little Willie, who had 
been quietly sitting upon a cushion at his sister's 
feet, listening attentively, but comprehending 
little of what had been said, — '' dear sister, thou 
hast not told us who this great and good man was. 
Where did he live ? What kind of a little boy 
was he ? Did he have to go to school all the time 
as we do? and did he never get out of patience, 
and wish he could chase the yellow butterflies, 
and play in the fields amidst the new-mown hay, 



12 SISTER ruth's stories. 

instead of having to sit in the warm, dull school- 
room, studying those long, hard names in the 
Geography, which always worry me so ? Did he 
always do what his father and mother and teacher 
wished him to do, without pouting and being 
naughty ? I wonder if he used to say, every 
morning, as I do^ 

*'A good boy will mind his work, 
And love to read his book, 
He will not pout, nor fret, nor cry, 
Nor show a sour look." 

^^ There is little told, dear Willie,'^ responded 
his sister, '^ in the accounts that I have read, con- 
cerning his school-days; but no doubt he was far 
more patient, obedient, and industrious, than most 
little boys are, for he could read at a very early 
age — and he speaks of the sorrow he felt, even 
when so young, on hearing boys use improper lan- 
guage. One anecdote, which he himself relates, 
shows his great tenderness for the poor, dumb 
animals. He says, ^^A thing remarkable in nly 
childhood was, that once, going to a neighbor's 
house, I saw on the way a robin sitting on her 
nest, and as I came near, she went off, but having 
young ones, flew about, and with many cries, 
showed her concern for them. I stood and threw 
stones at her, till one striking her, she fell down 



SISTER ruth's stories. lo 

dead. At first I was pleased with the exploit^ but 
after a few minutes was seized with horror, for 
having in a sportive way killed an innocent crea- 
ture, while she was careful* for her young. I be- 
held her lying dead, and thought those young 
ones, for which she was so careful, must now 
perish for want of their dam to nourish them ; and 
after some painful considerations on the subject, I 
climbed up the tree, took all the young ones and 
killed them, thinking that better than to leave 
them to pine away and die miserably } and believed, 
in this case, that Scripture proverb was fulfilled, 
^^ The tender mercies of the wicked are cvneV I 
then went on my errand, but for some hours after 
I could think of little else but the cruelties I had 
committed, and was much troubled. Thus He 
whose tender mercies are over all his works, hath 
placed a principle in the human mind, which in- 
cites us to exercise goodness towards every living 
creature; and this being simply attended to, people 
become tender-hearted and sympathizing ; but be- 
ing frequently and totally rejected, the mind be- 
comes shut up in a contrary disposition.^^ He 
further says of himself: "About the twelfth year 
of my age, my father being abroad, my mother 
reproved me for some misconduct, to which I made 
an undutiful reply ; and the next First-day, as I 
was with my father returning from meeting, he 
2 



14 SISTER ruth's stories. 

told me he understood I had behaved amiss to- 
wards mj mother^ and advised me to be more 
careful in future. I knew myself blamable, and 
in shame and confusion remained silent. Being 
thus awakened to a sense of my wickedness, I felt 
remorse in my mind, and getting home, I retired 
and prayed to the Lord to forgive me ; and I do 
not remember that I ever, after that, spoke un- 
handsomely to either of my parents, however 
foolish in some other things.'^ 

'' Besides this, dear Willie,'' like Timothy of 
old, he ^^ knew the Scriptures from his youth up,'' 
and doubtless greatly delighted, even when a little 
boy, in reading of the wanderings of Abraham 
and Jacob ; of the mighty acts of Elijah and 
Elisha; of the wise king who built at Jerusalem 
the great temple ; and of Daniel who prayed to 
God notwithstanding the king's commandment; 
and of the three Jewish youths, who, refusing to 
worship the great image that Nebuchadnezzar had 
set up in the plain of Dura, were thrown into the 
fiery furnace, and yet not destroyed. And, doubt- 
less, better than all, he loved to read of the '^ wise 
men" who came from a far country, to offer 
frankincense and myrrh, and precious gifts to the 
Messiah — the babe for whom there was no room 
in the inn, and vrhom, though they found him 



SISTER ruth's stories. 15 

lying in a manger, they believed to be the king 
that should come to redeem his people. 

*• So, dear Willie, John Woolman, for this was 
his honored name, even as'a little boy, appears to 
have been very innocent and thoughtful, and 
though, no doubt, he loved as well as thou, to 
toss about the new-mown hay, and gambol in the 
green fields, watching the birds building their 
nests, and the yellow butterflies glancing to and 
fro, yet I do not believe he wished to do it at im- 
proper times, when he knew something else ought 
to be done. Learn too from him, dear Willie, to 
be careful not to hurt anything unnecessarily, not 
even the meanest worm that crawls, remember- 
ing that He, who gave it life, meant that it 
should enjoy it — and that we cannot give back 
the life we have taken, even to the smallest in- 
sect. 

" But, my dear children, I have told you enough 
concerning John Woolman for the present ; at 
some other time, if life and health are spared, we 
will renew the subject.'^ And taking her little 
brother by the hand, she led him to his own 
apartment, and after listening to his little prayer — 

"Father! now the dny is past, 
On thy child thy blessing cast, 
Near my pillow, hand in hand, 
Keep thy guardian angel band. 



16 SISTER ruth's stories. 

And throughout the darkling night, 
Bless me with a cheerful light, 
Let me rise at morn again, 
Free from every thought of pain; 
Passing through life's thorny way, 
Keep me, Father! day by day — " 

she rejoined her sisters, glad to know that her 
wild, but affectionate little brother, had become 
so much interested in John Woolman, — glad that 
to her, was given the privilege of thus endeavor- 
ing to sow the '' good seed'^ in the minds of these 
little ones, and to feel, that though humble her 
efforts, and short and simple the stories she re- 
lated to them, they were already learning to love 
these pleasant evening communings, and no longer 
wished for fun and excitement and noisy games. 
Faithful, loving, elder sister; by scattering flow- 
ers in the pathway of others, lo ! they were spring- 
ing up abundantly in her own. 



CHAPTER II. 

' HE same little group, that we have spoken 
of before, at the coming on of the quiet 
^ winter evening, again gathered around 
y£^ their sister, reminding her, of her promise 
to tell them another story concerning John 
Woolman. ^^ It is so much more interesting,^^ 
said their little pet brother, Willie, " to listen to 
sister Ruth's stories, than it is to read the same 
in a book. The other night when she told us 
about the little baby lying in the cradle, and his 
brothers and sisters trying to make him laugh, 
and playing with his little, white, chubby hands, 
it seemed to me as if I could see him lying there. 
I cannot understand all the great and good things 
that he did when a man, but I shall always love 
him better, for thinking of that pretty picture of 
him, that it seemed to me, I saw while Ruth was 
talking to us. And I felt so sorry for him when 
he killed the poor robin ; I know he must have 
felt very badly, when he heard the little ones cry 
for their mother, and he knew that she could 
never bring them any more food, nor keep them 
warm with h^r soft feathers at night. The tears 
almost come into my eyes, when I think how hard 
it must have been for him to take all those pretty 
2^ (17) 



18 SISTER ruth's stories. 

little birds out of their warm nest and kill them, 
one by one, when they were crying so pitifully, 
and trying to tell how badly they wanted their 
mother. I wonder if they would not have eaten 
some crumbs of bread, or some worms, if he had 
taken them home with him, and tried to feed 
them. But perhaps the cat would have caught 
them, then, as they had no mother, to take care 
of them. I suppose it was better to kill them 
than to leave them to starve, but it did seem too 
bad. I shall always think of this, when I throw 
stones ; and I will be very careful not to hurt the 
poor little birds, or even the little worms that are 
crawling about in the path, any more. I had 
never thought before that it is an easy matter to 
kill them, but that we cannot possibly bring them 
back to life again.^' His sister, Ruth, smiling 
lovingly at the little face, so full of earnestness 
and pity, upturned to hers, assured him of the 
pleasure it had given her, to find that he had 
thought so much about what she had said to 
them ; and she hoped, he would always remember 
that cruelty, even to dumb animals, is a sin, and 
always brings unhappiness to those who indulge 
in it. Then addressing her sisters, she said, 
'^ Little is recorded of the life of John Woolman, 
from the 16th to the 21st year of his age. He 
appears to have lived quietly at home, guarded 



SISTER ruth's stories. 19 

by a tender father's care^ watclied over by a loving 
mother; and^ living in the country, he was, in a 
measure, shielded from the temptations that sur- 
round a young man, in large cities. Yet^ even 
here, shielded and guarded as he was, temptation 
found him ; the syren, Pleasure, beckoned him, 
and he obeyed her call. Notwithstanding all the 
care that had been taken by his watchful parents, 
to sow only ^^ good seed'^ in the garden of the 
mind, and to root up all the weeds, and poison- 
ous herbs, yet, he says of himself, ^Hhere was a 
plant in me -which produced many wild grapes. ^^ 
'^ Vanity was added to vanity, and repentance to 
repentance.^^ He no longer took pleasure in read- 
ing the Holy Scriptures, which had once afforded 
him so much satisfaction, but, mingling with the 
careless and the thoughtless, '' associating with 
these in the reverse of true friendship,^^ he found 
his greatest pleasure in youthful vanities and 
diversions. But while running this swift race of 
folly, Disease laid her hand upon him so heavily, 
that he could hear the rustling of the wino;s of 
the Angel of Death. He felt that he was stand- 
ing on the very brink of the dark river, and he 
shuddered at the thought of passing alone through 
its chill waters. The consoling language of the 
inspired prophet, '' When thou passest through 
the waters. I will be with thee, and through the 



20 SISTER ruth's stories. 

rivers^ they shall not overflow thee/' was not for 
him. It did not calm his fears, for he remembered 
that the promise was to those who had been re- 
deemed and called by the name of the Lord. 

He praj^ed fervently that his life might be 
spared a little longer — that the Angel of Death 
might pass him by — promising to renounce these 
^^ youthful vanities/' and to endeavor to walk 
humbly before his G od. And, for some time, the 
remembrance of the anguish which he had en- 
dured in the prospect of the near approach of 
death to him, so unprepared; and gratitude to the 
merciful Father who had heard his prayers, and 
graciously restored him to health, dwelt with 
him; keeping him for a season, humble, gentle, 
and loving. But as health and strength more 
fully returned, and he again mingled with his old 
companions, he forgot how ^^ gracious the Lord 
had been to him, and how he had spoken peace 
to him in his distress.'' He says of himself at 
this time, ^' I was not so hard}^ as to commit things 
scandalous, but to exceed in vanity, and promote 
mirth, were my chief study. Still I retained a 
love and esteem for pious people; and their com- 
pany brought an awe upon me. My dear parents, 
several times admonished me in the fear of the 
Lord, and their admonitions entered into my 
heart, and had a good effect for a season ; but not 



SISTER ruth's stories. 21 

getting deep enougli to pray rightly, the tempter, 
when he came, found entrance. I remember that 
once, having spent a part of the day in wanton- 
ness, as I went to bed at night, a Bible lay in the 
window near my bed, which I opened, and first 
cast my eye on the text, ^' w^e lie down in our 
shame, and our confusion covers us ;'^ this I knew 
to be my case ; and meeting with so unexpected 
a reproof, I was somew^hat affected with it, and 
went to bed under remorse of conscience — which 
I soon cast off again.^^ Thus sinning and repent- 
ing, '^ sowing to the wind, and reaping the whirl- 
wind,^^ he went on his way, till he reached his 
eighteenth year. He had walked in the road 
where Pleasure led him, and found it full of 
thorns, where he had hoped to find only flowers 
growing; he had ^^ pressed the juice from purple 
clusters, and filled life's chalice with the wine,'^ 
but the sparkling wine was mingled with worm- 
wood ) he had tasted the fairest fruits that hung 
by the way-side, and casting aside, as much as he 
could, all reflection and serious thoughts, he tried 
to find a pleasant and easy path for his feet. 

*' Ah ! the path was smooth and easy, but a snare was 
set therein ; 
And the feet were oft entangled in the fearful mesh 
of sin ; 



22 SISTER ruth's stories. 

And the canker-worm was hidden in the rose-leaf 

folded np, 
And the sparkling wine of Pleasure, was a fatal 

Circean cup ; 
All its fruits were Dead-Sea apples, tempting only 

to the sight; 
Fair, yet filled with dust and ashes — beautiful, but 

touched with blight."' 

Finding that tlie way of the Cross was safest and 
best ; and learning in seasons of sorrow and abase- 
ment^ that 

**By the thorn-path, and no other 
Is the mount of vision trod;'* 

he, at length, became willing to walk in the nar- 
row way that had been pointed out to him, and 
forsaking his wild companions, who had often 
proved a snare to him, he steadily attended meet- 
ings, and spent his First-day afternoons in reading 
the Bible, and other good books, instead of in 
unprofitable company, and trifling conversation. 

And as he patiently bore the Cross, and fol- 
lowed in the footsteps of the Saviour, he knew a 
more intimate communion with him; testifying 
by his deportment, that he had indeed been with 
the Master. For as he truly remarks, '^ Some 
glances of real beauty may be seen in their faces, 
who dwell in true meekness. There is a harmony 



SISTER RUTIl's STORIES. 23 

in the sound of that voice to which Divine love 
gives utterance, and some appearance of right 
order in their temper and conduct, whose passions 
are regulated ; yet all these do not fully show 
forth that inward life, to such who have not felt 
it; but this white stone and new name are known 
rightly to such only who have them/' 

All this time he had been living with his parents 
at home^ and working with his father on the farm ; 
but having received a good education for those 
days, and having improved himself by study 
during the long winter evenings, and other sea- 
sons of leisure, he now, in his 21st year, entered 
into business for himself — taking service as a 
clerk and book-keeper, with a man who carried 
on an extensive business in shop-keeping and 
baking. The store was situated in Mount Holly^, 
about five miles from his own home. Here John 
AYoolman had many fresh trials and temptations 
to encounter. His employer lived some miles out 
of the village, and John had the store to him- 
self, during the day, where he was visited b}" 
many of his young acquaintance, who wished to 
make him like his new home, and often soufrht 
to persuade him to go with them in search of fan 
and pleasure — but he withstood all their entreaties. 
A short time after his removal to iMount Holly, 
his ^^ master bought several Scotchmen, as ser- 



24 SISTER ruth's stories. 

vants, from on board a vessel/^ and brought them 
to this place to sell ; not as regular bondmen all 
their lives, but till they had compensated those 
who had advanced the money for their passage. 
For it was customary, upon the arrival of the 
very poor upon our shores, while they were yet 
on ship-board, for some of the merchants or rich 
men, to pay their fare, and then sell them, or 
bind them out for a term of years, till they had 
earned enough to satisfy those who had advanced 
the money for their fare. This, at least, is what 
I have read, or heard somewhere, though I cannot, 
just now, give you my authority for it. 

One of these men, while yet in the hands of 
John Woolman's employer, was taken sick, and 
died. John Woolman, speaking of this occurrence, 
says : " In the latter part of his sickness, he being 
delirious, used to curse and swear most sorrow- 
fully ; and the next night after his burial, I was 
left to sleep alone in the same chamber where he 
died. I perceived in me a timorousness ; I knew, 
however, that I had not injured the man, but 
assisted in taking care of him according to my 
capacity; and was not free to ask any one, on that 
occasion, to sleep with me ; nature was feeble, but 
every trial was a fresh incentive to give myself 
wholly up to the service of God, for I found no 
helper like him in times of trouble.^' 



SISTER ruth's stories. 25 

At length, his former acquaintance, finding that 
they could not entice him to join them any more 
in their sports and revelry, gave up the attempt, 
and left him to himself. But he was not alone, 
even outwardly, for some of the more serious and 
well-disposed people, observing his staid deport- 
ment and conscientious discharge of duty, sought 
his companionship ; and they not only strengthened 
him in his good resolutions, but often they were a 
solace to him when sad and heavy-hearted — for 
thorns were still growing in his pathway, and he 
was often made to drink of the cup of sufi'ering. 

^^And here, my dear sisters,^' said the gentle 
Anna, ^^let me advise you to be careful, very 
careful, in your choice of companions. It is an 
old and trite proverb, that 'Birds of a feather 
flock together ;' and those who mingle together on 
terms of intimacy, must assimilate in a greater or 
less degree. We all are influenced more or less 
by our surroundings ; and the actions, the words, 
the thoughts of our companions, do exercise a 
powerful influence upon us all, and especially upon 
the young. 

'^ It is dangerous to depend upon our own 
strength, and think we shall not be harmed by 
communion with those who delight in wrong- 
doing — who, through carelessness and levity, wander 
far away themselves, and lead others with them, 
3 



26 SISTER ruth's stories. 

from the narrow path. No one can walk among 
the coals, and still keep her garments white and 
free from soil. And on the other hand, my pre- 
cious sisters, if you choose for your friends the 
virtuous, the intelligent, the pure, they will 
strengthen all that is good in you — they will take 
you by the hand, and help you to mount up higher 
— they will prove themselves to be friends indeed.^' 

^'At length,'' continued Ruth, ^' Jobn Wool- 
man, feeling an earnest solicitude for his young 
friends, that they too might, with him, follow the 
Master, and sensible that his lips had been touched 
with the ^ live coal from off the holy altar ,^ and 
that he had been sent with a message of love to 
them, ere he had completed his twenty-third year, 
he appeared publicly as a minister in the Society 
of Friends. I have often thought how impressive 
to his young and gay companions must have been 
his admonitions, coming from one still so young. 
And, dear Anna, what a high honor, what a pre- 
cious reward had he received, for bearing the cross 
in his youth ; for methinks those who are ' put in 
trust with the gospel,' who are sent forth as am- 
bassadors, to declare the ^ glad tidings of the gospel 
of peace,' are indeed favored above their fellows — 
are favored with a closer walk, a higher commu- 
nion with their God." 

" Dear Anna/' said Mary, ^* I see little Willie's 



SISTER ruth's stories. 27 

eyes are growing dim, and sister Euth is folding 
up her work, a token that her story is over for 
this evening; but, before she goes, wilt thou not 
repeat for us Whittier's beautiful lines, upon the 
' Cross ?' It speaks of some one bearing the cross 
in his youth; and though John Woolman did not 
suffer martyrdom, yet as the friend of the slave, 
and one of the first who interested themselves in 
persuading Friends to liberate theirs everywhere, 
he met, sister Ruth has told me, with much oppo-- 
sition and unkindness from some, who, perhaps, 
blinded by self-interest, could not see the subject 
in the same light that he did/' 

^^ Yes, little sister, I will gladly repeat it for 
thee ; for the thought that the ^ Cross, if rightly 
borne, shall be no burden, but a strength to me,' 
, has been an inexpressible consolation, when con- 
fined for days together to a couch of suffering." 

*'The Cross, if rightly borne, shall be 
No burden, but a strength to thee." 
So, moved of old tirae for our sake, 
The holy monk of Kempen spake. 

*' Thou brave and true one, upon whom 
Was laid the Cross of martyrdom, 
How^ didst thou, in thy faithful youth, 
Bear witness to this blessed truth. 



28 SISTER ruth's stories. 

"Thy Cross of suffering and of shame, 
A staff within thy hands became, 
In paths where Faith alone could see 
The Master's steps upholding thee. 

*' Thine was the seed-time, God alone, 
Beholds the end of what is sown ; 
Beyond our vision, weak and dim, 
The harvest-time is hid with Him. 

"Yet unforgotten where it lies. 
That seed of generous sacrifice, 
Though seeming on the desert cast. 
Shall rise with flower and fruit at last." 



CHAPTEE III. 

)GAIN the same little group were gathered 
around their sister, waiting for her evening 
story. The rain was gently, slowly falling, 
pattering with a low, melancholy sound 
upon the roof. But when the shutters 
were closed, and the lamps were lighted, these 
loving ones forgot the storm and the cold without, 
in the comfort that reigned within. Or, if the 
low wailing of the wind sometimes came mourn- 
fully to their ears, reminding them of the tempest 
without, it was only to contrast their happier lot 
with that of the poor and the suffering — and 
while it had not the power to sadden their young 
and joyous spirits, it increased their pity for those 
who must brave its fury, and rendered them more 
thankful that their " lives had fallen in pleasant 
places.'' But soon even this was forgotten, as 
their sister called their attention to her narration, 
saying, ^^ From this time John Woolman daily 
grew more and more respected and trusted, not 
only by his employer, but by those around him, 
young as well as old ; for they could not but see 
the beauty and consistency of such a life as he 
3 * ( 29 ) 



30 SISTER ruth's stories. 

led; and this gave him such an influence over his 
companions as enabled him^ without offence, to 
speak a word in season, when he saw that any one 
was wandering from the narrow path of right and 
truth. He says of himself, ^^About the time called 
Christmas, I observed that many people from the 
country, and dwellers in town, resorting to public 
houses, spent their time in drinking and vain 
sports, tending to corrupt one another ; on which 
account I was much troubled. At one house, in 
particular, there was much disorder, and I believed 
it was a duty incumbent on me to go and speak to 
the master of that house. I considered I was 
young, and that several elderly Friends in town 
had an opportunity to see these things ; but though 
I would gladly have been excused, yet I could not 
feel my mind clear. The exercise was heavy, and 
as I was reading what the Almighty said to Eze- 
kiel respecting his duty as a watchman, the matter 
was set home more clearly ; and then, with prayers 
and tears I besought the Lord for his assistance, 
who in loving kindness gave me a resigned heart. 
Then, at a suitable opportunity, I went to the 
public house, and seeing the man amongst much 
company, I went to him, and told him I wanted to 
speak with him ; so we went aside, and there, in 
the fear and dread of the Almighty, I expressed 
to him what rested on my mind, which he took 



SISTER ruth's stories. 31 

kindly — and afterwards showed more regard to 
me than before. In a few years afterwards he 
died, middle-aged ; and I often thought that had I 
neglected my duty in that case, it would have 
given me great trouble ; and I was humbly thank- 
ful to my gracious Father, who had supported me 
herein/' 

^^About this time,'' said sister Ruth, -^John 
Woolman's eyes were opened to see the enormity 
of slavery ; to see that it was inconsistent with 
the principles professed by all Christians, and 
especially by Friends, to hold their brothers and 
sisters in bondage, and to enjoy the fruits of their 
unrequited labor. He says, '^ My employer having 
a negro woman, sold her, and desired me to write 
a bill of sale, the man being waiting who bought 
her. The thing was sudden; and though the 
thoughts of writing an instrument of slavery for 
one of my fellow-creatures, felt uneasy, yet I re- 
membered that I was hired by the year, that it 
was my master who directed me to do it, and that 
it was an elderly man, a member of our Society, 
who bought her ; so through weakness I gave way 
and wrote it, but at the execution of it, I was so 
afflicted in my mind, that I said before my master 
and the Friend, that I believed slave-keeping to 
be a practice inconsistent with the Christian reli- 
gion. This in some degree abated my uneasiness ; 



32 SISTER ruth's stories. 

yet as often as I reflected seriously upon it, I 
thought I should have been clearer, if I had de- 
sired to be excused from it, as a thing against my 
conscience, for such it was/' 

^^ Some time after this, a young man of our So- 
ciety spoke to me to write a conveyance of a slave 
to him, he having lately taken a negro into his 
house. I told him I was not easy to write it; for 
though many of our meeting and in other places 
kept slaves, I still believed the practice was not 
right, and desired to be excused from the writing. 
I spoke to him in good will, and he told me that 
keeping slaves was not altogether agreeable to his 
mind, but that the slave being a gift made to his 
wife, he had accepted of her.'' 

'' Why, did Friends ever keep slaves ?" said Effie ; 
^' how strange ! I knew that long, long ago, there 
were a few slaves in New Jersey, but I did not 
know that Friends were allowed to keep them." 
Little Willie, too, who had listened with astonish- 
ment and pity, hastily spoke, inquiring whether 
^' The Friends used to sell the poor little colored 
boys away from their mothers, as they do in the 
South, and never let them come home any more? 
Did they use to beat them, and make them work 
hard all day, and then not give them enough, to 
eat, as I read they did in the rice swamps and 
sugar plantations ? But then, dear sister, wasn't 



SISTER ruth's stories. 33 

it a fine thing that there were not any rice-fields 
here, nor any cotton for them to pick. I know I 
should get very tired, working day after day in 
the hot sun, picking cotton. How the little slaves 
must have cried, when they were sold away from 
their fathers and mothers, with nobody to love 
them any more, or to speak kindly to them, but a 
strange driver standing over them, with his whip 
in his hand, ready to strike them if they were 
tired and did not work fast enough. I am so glad 
that John Woolman told the man that it was wrong 
to have slaves; I should think he would not wish 
to keep them, after he knew it was wrong.^^ 

Willie's lips quivered as he ended, and his eyes 
filled with tears at the sorrowful picture he had 
conjured up; for, reared in the lap of afi'ection, 
accustomed only to loving words, his heart went 
forth in pity and deep sympathy towards those who 
were unkindly treated — towards the sufiering and 
oppressed. Sister Ruth, kissing away the tears 
from the little face lifted so earnestly to hers, re- 
plied, '' It was at one time common for Friends 
even, to hold slaves ; and although they were held 
accountable to the meeting, as well as to the laws 
of the State, if they abused them in any way, 
either by giving them an insufficiency of food, or 
requiring of them tasks beyond their strength to 
perform, yet no doubt there was much sufi'ering, 



34 SISTER ruth's stories. 

pliysicallj as well as mentally, of which the world 
never knew — sufferings and wrongs, which were 
wafted with the cries and the prayers of the op- 
pressed to the ears of a pitying Father, who re- 
gard eth even the sparrows when they fall. Yet, 
thanks be to God ! that there were no rice or cot- 
ton-fields, as Willie says, in which they were 
compelled to labor from the dawn to the close of 
the day, fainting beneath the rays of the noon-day 
sun. 

From the habits of the people dwelling here, 
from the character of the soil and climate, slavery^ 
here, could not be quite so revolting and horrible 
as it is at the South, for there is not so much to 
tempt cupidity. Neither, dear Willie, was it con- 
sidered at all just or respectable (and thou know- 
est public opinion has a great influence) to sepa- 
rate families, and send them to the slave-market, 
unless the slaves proved very unmanageable, or 
had committed some crime which was not punish- 
able with death. Slaves often passed from father 
to son, in the same way as the rest of the paternal 
estate, and they grew old and died on the same 
plantation on which they were born, and in the 
service of the same family. No doubt, strong 
affection often existed between the Jfemily of the 
master and the slave — many instances have been 



SISTER ruth's stories. 35 

left on record of tlie slaves fidelity even to death 
— and the gratitude of the master. 

And, no doubt, for the most part, these old 
family servants were kindly treated, and well cared 
for in every way ; and their lives were compara- 
tively easy and pleasant. No doubt many of the 
Friends of those days, received the injunction of 
the blessed Saviour to Peter, '' feed my lambs — '' 
as if spoken to them individually ] and while in- 
structing the little ones of their own flesh and 
blood, they forgot not the stranger and the bond- 
man within their gates, but broke to them also 
the bread of life. 

Yet, notwithstanding the kindness and con- 
sideration, that many of them who had good, 
kind-hearted masters, received; notwithstanding, 
many of them were, perhaps, better off, temporally, 
than they would have been without any one to 
control and direct them ; yet there was room for 
a great deal of unkindness and oppression. And 
more than all, those who held them were acting 
in direct disobedience to the injunction of the 
Saviour, " Whatsoever ye would that men should 
do unto you, do ye even so to them.'' Even at 
this time, some Friends were not satisfied that 
they were doing right in holding slaves ; and from 
time to time they were liberated either during the 
life of their master, or were left free at his death, 



36 

by his will. And though, from time to time, apos- 
tles were raised up to preach against this great 
iniquity, yet John Woolman appears to have been 
the first, in this part of the world, who was 
anointed, especially, for this great work; who 
went forth pleading with his friends, to ^^ break 
every yoke, and let the oppressed go free/^ And 
great was the work that he accomplished ; many 
were convinced by his words of their sinfulness 
in holding slaves; and richly was he rewarded, 
even here, by knowing that many, both black and 
white, followed him with heart-felt blessings, and 
regarded him as their benefactor. 

In the 9th month, 1743, John Woolman set forth 
on his first religious visit, in company with Abra- 
ham Farrington, and attended most of the meet- 
ings of Friends in East Jersey ; he also appointed 
many meetings in places where few, if any, Friends 
dwelt. An evening meeting was held in a tavern, 
at Brunswick, which was largely attended — the 
people behaving in a very quiet, orderly manner. 
Another was held at Amboy, in the court-house, 
^' to which came many people, amongst whom were 
several members of assembly ; they being in town 
on the public afiairs of the province.^' Thence, 
he went to Woodbridge, Rahway, and Plainfield, 
holding six or seven meetings, which were chiefly 
made up of Presbyterians, and in which his 



SISTER ruth's stories. 37 

^^ ancient companion was enlarged to preach in 
the love of the gospel/^ This journey occupied 
about two weeks. It was to John \Yoohnan a 
solemn as well as a pleasant season ; and though 
he said but little in these meetings^ yet his '- mind 
was tender^ and he learned some profitable les- 
sons ;^^ learned to be careful^ when his lips were 
opened^ not to speak any thing more or less than 
was furnished him by the Great Master. 

About this time some difficulty arose, in settling 
a business affair, in which several families were 
involved, and which excited much ill-feeling among 
the parties. One valuable friend in particular, 
an elderly man, ^^ got off his watch,^^ and acted in 
a manner unbecoming to one who made so high a 
profession. For this friend, John Woolman had 
a great regard, and he was greatly grieved that 
he should thus have left the watch-tower; yet, 
being young, he felt a delicacy in rebuking one 
so advanced, both in age and experience, but after 
weighing it well, and believing that it was required 
of him to do so, strength was given him, to '^ex- 
press what lay upon him'^ in a way which became 
his own youth, and the father in Israel, to whom 
he spoke. Of this, he says, '^ though it was a 
hard task to me, it was well taken, and I believe 
was useful to us both.'' 

John Woolman having now been several years 
4 



38 SISTER ruth's stories. 

engaged in merchandise^ and finding it attended 
witli much cumber and anxiety, felt that the time 
had come for him to seek some more simple way 
of obtaining a livelihood. For, although he had 
received several offers of business that appeared 
profitable, he did not see his way clear to accept 
any of them, lest, entangled in business, his eye 
should be dimmed, so that he might not see the 
pointings of the finger of Truth. He says in 
relation to this, ^' I saw that an humble man, with 
the blessing of the Lord, might live on a little ; 
and that where the heart was set on greatness, 
success in business did not satisfy the craving ; 
but that commonly with an increase of wealth, 
the desire of wealth increased. There was a care 
on my mind, so to pass my time that nothing 
might hinder me from the most steady attention 
to the voice of the true Shepherd.'^ 

His employer, though now a shop-keeper, was 
a tailor by trade ; and he still kept a ^' servant- 
man^^ employed in carrying on that branch of 
business for him. Of this man, John Woolman 
resolved to learn the tailoring business, believing 
that he might, by this " trade, and a little retail- 
ing of goods, get a living in a plain way, without 
the load of great business.''' 

This plan met with the approbation of his em- 
ployer, and the terms were soon agreed upon, and 



& 



SISTER ruth's stories. 39 

all the time he could spare from the store he 
spent working with this man, and soon acquired a 
thorough knowledge of the business. To use his 
own words, ^^ I believed the hand of Providence 
pointed out this business for me ; and was taught 
to be content with it, though I felt at times, a dis- 
position that would have sought for something 
greater. But through the revelation of Jesus 
Christ, I had seen the happiness of humility, and 
there was an earnest desire in me to enter deeply 
into it; and at times, this desire arose to a degree 
of fervent supplication, wherein my soul was so 
environed with heavenly light and consolation, 
that things were made easy to me, which had been 
otherwise/' 

The wife of his employer dying soon after- 
wards, the store was given up — and John Wool- 
man, thus released from his engagement, worked 
at his trade as a tailor. And ^while his hands 
were busy with the necessary avocations of daily 
life, and like Paul he ministered to his own neces- 
sities, his heart was intent upon doing the Mas- 
ter's work, and while in this humble waiting state, 
the summons again came, " go forth with a mes- 
sage to my people/' On the 12th of 3d month, 
1746, in company with Isaac Andrews, he set out 
for a religious visit to some of the " back settle- 
ments of Pennsylvania; to Maryland, Virginia, 



40 SISTER ruth's stories. 

and Carolina/' They endured many hardships 
upon this journey; for in Pennsylvania, especially, 
where the settlements were new, and the people 
generally poor, few of them had more than enough, 
upon their arrival, to purchase their small farms 
— so that to stock and cultivate these, to build 
comfortable houses, and to educate their children, 
required a constant struggle. Besides, communi- 
cation with the older settlements was rare and 
difficult, and the people necessarily lived in a 
coarse, rude way. John Woolman sympathized 
deeply with them in their trials — with their hard- 
ships in the wilderness, and encouraged them to 
persevere. He particularly recommended friends, 
who should feel called upon to visit these isolated 
ones, not to expect the kind attentions, the almost 
luxurious entertainment they met with in older 
and wealthier places, but to partake cheerfully of 
whatever was set before them, and '^ to be content 
with their lot, as becomes the disciples of Christ.'^ 
While passing from these newly settled places 
to Virginia, they encountered many dangers and 
difficulties ) lodging sometimes in the woods, eat- 
ing the provision they had brought with them from 
their last stopping-place, and quenching their 
thirst from the running brook ) while their horses, 
tethered to the trees near them, were left to feed 



SISTER ruth's stories. 41 

upon tlie surrounding herbage. But a Father^s 
loving care watched over them, and led them 
safely through the wilderness; and the ^^ sweet 
influence of his spirit, supported them through 
all difficulties.'' They were " baptized into a feel- 
ing of the conditions of the people/' and were 
called upon to suffer with the suffering and heavy- 
hearted; yet, although their feet oft went down 
into the depths of Jordan, through the " good- 
ness of their Heavenly Father, the wells of living 
waters, were, at times, opened to their encourage- 
ment, and the refreshment of the sincere-hearted." 
He and his companion, after having travelled 
together in great harmony, returned home in the 
6th month, 1746, and " parted in the nearness of 
true brotherly love." 

John Woolman, in speaking of this journey, 
says, ^^ Two things were remarkable to me ; first, 
in regard to my entertainment; when I ate, drank, 
and lodged free-cost, with people who lived in 
ease on the hard labor of slaves, I felt uneasy; 
and as my mind was inward to the Lord, I found, 
from place to place, this uneasiness return upon 
me, at times, through the whole visit. Where 
the masters bore a good share of the burthen, and 
lived frugally, so that their servants were well- 
provided, and their kbor moderate, I felt more 



42 SISTER ruth's stories. 

easy; but when they lived in a costly way, and 
laid heavy burdens on their slaves, my exercise 
was often great, and I frequently had conversation 
with them in private, concerning it. 

Secondly, the trade of importing slaves from 
their native country, being much encouraged 
amongst them, and the white people and their 
children, so generally living without much labor, 
were frequently the subject of my serious thoughts ; 
and I saw in these Southern provinces, so many 
vices and corruptions, increased by this trade, and 
this way of life, that it appeared to me as a dark 
gloominess hanging over the land; and though 
now many willingly run into it, yet in future, the 
consequences will be grievous to posterity. I ex- 
press it as it hath appeared to me, not at once, or 
twice, but as a matter fixed on my mind.'' 

^^The more I become acquainted with the char- 
acter of John Woolman,'' said their invalid sister 
Anna, '' the more I am struck with its sublimity — 
with its dignified simplicity. With the capacity 
he exhibited for carrying on extensive business 
enterprises and amassing wealth ; with the high 
mental endowments that he possessed, ambition 
doubtless sometimes whispered that he might 
make for himself a name and place among the 
mighty ones of the earth ; that he might stand 



SISTER ruth's stories. 43 

upon the mount of Fame far above his fellows. 
To be able to turn away from all these fair pros- 
pects^ to lend a deaf ear to the call of ambition, 
and to be willing to walk in the straight and nar- 
row path, bespeak high moral courage, and a 
devoted love for the Master. I have been re- 
minded, while thinking of this great and good 
man, of him who was brought up at the feet of 
Gamaliel — learned in the law — versed not only in 
Hebrew lore, but in all the knowledge and poetry 
of the ancients — and who was yet willing to lay 
aside all the honors and dignities to which he might 
have attained, to become the disciple of the de- 
spised and crucified Jesus of Nazareth. Methinks, 
in reply to the whispers of the Tempter, to the 
jDleadings of Ambition, I hear them both uttering 
the sublime words — 

" God forbid that I should glory, 
Save in Jesus and his Cross." 

And methinks, viewing the sinfulness of slavery, 
John Woolman looked forward with prophetic eye, 
when he spoke of the " grievous consequences^^ 
thereof to ^^ posterity" — dissension and hatred, 
war and rapine, and evil like a great flood, over- 
spreading the land. Would that the people had 
listened to his gentle admonitions, that their eyes 



44 SISTER ruth's stories. 

had been opened to see the evil effects of this 
shameful traffic in human flesh, while it was yet 
comparatively small, ere it had grown to the great 
idol, the mighty god, before which so many thou- 
sands bow in worship." 

As his sister ceased speaking, little Willie re- 
quested, that ere they separated for the night, 
some one of them would repeat to him the words 
of an aged slave, addressed to a minister whom 
the slave was ferrying over a river in Virginia. 
^^ Perhaps," said he, ^^ this poor ferryman was one 
of the very same old slaves that John Woolman 
saw and pitied so — he might, perhaps, have ferried 
him over the same stream, and felt that he, too, 
loved the slave." Their sister Mary complied with 
her brother^s request, and recited the following 
touching poem : 

*'His head was white, and his eyes were dim, 
His face was marked with wo ; 
The vigor of youth had passed from him. 
And labor had bent him low. 

** He gave to the oar his remnant of strength, 
As the shallop left the shore; 
And he told his tale of grief at length, 
Ere the stream was ferried o'er. 



SISTER ruth's stories. 45 

«* Master," he said, "you're a child of God — 
His seal is upon your face — 
Poor negro has felt his chastening rod, 
And gloried in his grace. 

**The sun that rose upon Master's morn, 
Rejoiced o'er a free-born babe ; 
But the light that broke when I was born, 
Looked down on a fettered slave. 

**I grew apace to my bitter lot, 
Too soon felt the heavy chain ; 
And often I cried, Oh, why will not 
Earth, take back her child again ? 

**I thought perhaps, if I bent to toil. 
That heaven might let me see 
A day, in which I could tread the soil, 
And breathe the air of the free. 

<*I toiled at morn, I toiled at eve, 
I toiled 'neath the mid-day sun ; 
I rested not, when they gave me leave 
And said that my work was done. 

*^I yielded not to the Summer's heat. 
Nor cared for the Winter's frost ; 
Nor sheltered myself from the storms that beat, 
Lest a copper should be lost. 

**rve paid for myself, I have paid for my wife, 
But our sands are nearly run ; 
And the freedom we've bought with the end of life. 
Would have come with our setting sun. 



46 SISTER ruth's stories. 

**He smote his breast, with his eyes on high, 
And, in a voice of subdued tones, 
Said, * Master has all my strength, and I 
Have nothing but these old bones.' 

*^ Time adds a weight to each year as it rolls ; 
"We soon shall rest in our graves ; 
We trust in Christ to receive our souls, 
But we leave our children slaves." 



CHAPTER IV. 

ISTER RutH resumed her narrative by say- 
ing, " The next event of any especial inter- 
est in the life of John Woolman, was the 
death of his oldest sister, Elizabeth, who 
died in the 31st year of her age. Some of 
us, at that age, on looking backward, can see little 
that we have accomplished, calculated to benefit 
either ourselves or others. Day after day glides 
by in the vain pursuit of pleasure ; while we are 
too apt to think, (if sometimes we feel condemned 
for leading so thoughtless, aimless a life,) that 
there is time enough yet, for us to take up the 
cross, and, giving up our own selfish desires, to 
minister to the wants of others. But this beloved 
sister, from a child, seems to have been remark- 
ably sedate, and thoughtful beyond her years. 
She was very compassionate to the poor, and 
esteemed it a high privilege, to be able to relieve 
their necessities, and to alleviate their sufi'erings. 
Her brother has left on record one instance of 
her ready obedience to parental authority, and her 
earnest desire to conform to their wishes, which 

(47) 



48 SISTER ruth's stories. 

proves her to have been, even then^ endeavoring 
to live the self-denying life that all must live 
who desire to walk in the footsteps of the Saviour. 
He says^ " It happened that she and two of her 
sisters, being then near the estate of young 
women, had an inclination, one First-day, after 
meeting, to go on a visit to some other young 
women, at some distance off, whose company, I 
believe, would have done them no good. They 
expressed their desire to our parents, who were 
dissatisfied with the proposal, and stopped them. 
The same day, as my sisters and I were together, 
and they talking about their disappointment, 
Elizabeth expressed her contentment under it, 
signifying she believed it might be for their good.^' 
I will read to you, my dear sisters, one of her 
letters, written some two or three years before her 
death, which I have always admired, both on ac- 
count of its quaint simplicity, and the sincere 
piety which every line breathes. 

Haddonfield, Eleventh montli, 1st, 1743. 
Beloved brother, John Woolmax : 

In that love which desires the welfare of all men, 
I write unto thee ; I received thine, dated 2d day of the 
Tenth month last, with which I was comforted. My 
spirit was bowed with thankfulness, that I should be 
remembered, who ara so unworthy ; but the Lord is 
full of mercy, and his goodness is extended to the 



SISTER RUTH^S STORIES. 49 

meanest of Ms creation ; therefore in his infinite love, 
he hath pitied, and spared, and showed mercy, that I 
have not been cut ofif, nor quite lost; but at times I 
am refreshed and comforted as with the glimpse of his 
presence, which is more to the immortal part than all 
which this world can afford ; so, with desires for thy 
preservation with my own, I remain. 
Thy affectionate sister, 

Elizabeth Woolman, Jun. 

Of her illness we have little account, except 
what has been preserved by her brother in his 
biography of himself. He observes, that ^^the 
forepart of her illness she was in great sadness 
and dejection of mind, of which she told one of 
her intimate friends; and said, ^^ When I was a 
young girl, I was wanton and airy, but I thought 
I had thoroughly repented for it;'^ and added, " I 
have of late had great satisfaction in meetings/^ 

Though she was thus disconsolate^ still she re- 
tained a hope which was an anchor to her ; and 
some time after, the same friend came again to see 
her, to whom she mentioned her former expres- 
sions, and said, '^ It is otherwise now, for the Lord 
hath rewarded me seven-fold ; and I am unable to 
express the greatness of his love manifested to 
me/' Her disorder appearing dangerous, and our 
mother being sorrowful, she took notice of it, and 
said, " Dear mother, weep not for me ; I go to my 
5 



50 SISTER ruth's stories. 

God '^^ and maoy times with an audible voice ut- 
tered praise to her Redeemer. 

A friend coming some miles to see her the 
morning before she died, asked her how she did ? 
She answered, ^' I have had a hard night, but shall 
not have another such, for I shall die, and it will 
be well with my soul; and accordingly she died 
the next evening.^' 

Who does not wish, when looking forward to 
the close of life, to '' die the death of the right- 
eous V^ Who can help feeling solemnized, and 
longing for a holier, purer life, when reading an 
account of a death, so calm, so peaceful ? Faith 
bears us aloft upon soaring pinions, and enables 
us to catch faint glimpses of the pearly gate, and 
of the ^^ shining ones'^ who wait at the portal, to 
welcome the ransomed spirit to its everlasting 
home 

*' Sweet is the scene, -^-hen virtue dies, 
When sinks a righteous soul to rest; 
How mildly beam the closing eyes ! 
How gently heaves the expiring breath! 

*' So fades a summer cloud away, 

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er, 
So gently shuts the eye of day, 
So dies the wave along the shore. 



SISTER ruth's stories. 51 

•'Triumpliaiit smiles the victor -brow, 

Fanned by some angel's purple wing; 
Grave ! where is thy victory now ? 
Invidious Death ! where is thy sting ?" 

The greater part of the next two years^ John 
Woolman spent in the service of the Master who 
had set him apart for the work. He travelled ex- 
tensively through the New England States ; also 
through Delaware and the Eastern Shore of Mary- 
land, attending many of the meetings of Friends, 
in out-of-the-way places, where strangers seldom 
came, breaking the bread of life in their midst, to 
the refreshment of many, and appointing many 
meetings among those of other persuasions where- 
ever Truth opened the way. Having accomplished 
this mission, he returned to his home, bearing 
witness that the Angel of the Lord^s presence had 
gone with him, as of old with the chosen Shep- 
herd, who had led his people through the wilder- 
ness of Sinai to the very borders of the Promised 
Land ; and he could testify that " the Lord is in- 
deed a strong hold in the day of trouble.^' 

About this time, believing it ^^ best for him to 
settle,^^ and knowing that a good wife, like all 
other good things, is from the Lord, he fervently 
desired in spirit that the Good Father, who had 
bestowed upon him so many blessings, would add 



52 SISTER ruth's stories. 

this crowning gift; and would bestow upon him a 
helpmeet indeed — one who would walk hand in 
hand with him, in adversity as well as in pros- 
perity ; one who had learned as he had in the 
School of Christ; and who would, therefore, be 
both able and willing to bear the " burden of the 
word of the Lord/' that thus they might take 
sweet counsel together, and be to each other a 
strong staff for the weary to lean upon. Of his 
marriage he quaintly remarks, "the Lord was 
pleased to give me a well-inclined damsel, Sarah 
Ellis, to whom I was married the 18th day of the 
Eighth month, in the year 1749. '^ 

" I have always felt sorry,'' said Anna, " that 
John Woolman has said so little in his journal, 
concerning his marriage, and of the ^damsel' who 
became his wife ; and who, from the testimony of 
others, w^as a faithful ^helpmeet' to him — sharing 
his sorrows, bearing his burdens, and ever seeking 
to strengthen his hands for the good work in which 
he was engaged. I have tried to find some ac- 
count of his marriage for you, but except the mere 
mention of its taking place at the time and in the 
way appointed, I can give you no information, 
though no doubt it was conducted with great simpli- 
city, and all unnecessary show and expense avoided. 
In fancy I can see the bride, in her plain Quaker 



SISTER ruth's stories. 53 

attire^ in lier dress of drab, or of lavender, or else 
of the hue of the dove, with her plain gauze cap, 
and her spotless white kerchief folded smoothly 
over her breast, as she takes her chosen husband 
by the hand, and solemnly vows to be ' faithful and 
loving unto him, till death/ No bridal veil covers 
her head, no orange-flowers give forth their rich 
scent; no pearls or precious stones adorn her 
robes; her only ornaments are a ^meek and quiet 
spirit/ ^^ 

'^Dear Kuth,^^ said Mary, ^^ sister Anna's re- 
marks have reminded me of the promise thou once 
gave me, to show me, at some convenient time, a 
curious marriage certificate, written I think by 
John Woolman, on the occasion of the marriage 
of a colored man, who regularly attended the meet- 
ings of Friends, and who gained the respect and 
good-will of all who knew him. Wilt thou not 
read it to us now, and tell us where thou found 
it?'^ 

" This interesting document is in the hands of 
Anthony Sharp, a venerable friend, and a warm 
admirer of the character of John Woolman, who 
kindly consented that I should transcribe it for 
you. The paper, on which the certificate was 
written, is yellow with age, and the folds are worn 
through, but the clear, bold handwriting of John 
5^ 



54 SISTER ruth's stories. 

Woolman, is as legible now as when it was first 
penned. I would gladly have given you a fac- 
simile thereof, judging that you, as well as myself, 
like sometimes to turn away from the busy pre- 
sent, and hold communion with the silent past, 
while examining such a relic of the olden times — 
judging that even the quaint phraseology, and the 
cramped uncouth penmanship of many of the 
signatures, would have a charm for you. But as 
this is out of my power, I will read you my copy 
thereof, which I took great pains to transcribe 
verbatim, preserving not only the wording, but 
the orthography, of the original. 

'^ Whereas William Boin a negro man now em- 
ployed in the affairs of Moses Haines of Spring- 
field who by an agreement with the said Moses 
Haines set forth in wrighting and signed expects 
to enjoy the full benefit of his Labour on the first 

day of the fourth month in the year of our 

Lord one thousand seven hundred and sixty five 

And Dido a negro woman of late servant to 
Joseph Burr who now enjoys the full benefit of 
her labour Having for some time manifested an 
enclination to joyn in marriage with each other 
and On Enquiry no dificulty appearing in respects 
to marriage Engagements with any others They 
the Said William Boin and Dido on the third day 
of the fifth month in the year of our Lord one 



SISTER RUTH S STORIES. 



55 



thousand seven hundred and Sixty three^ At a 
little meeting held in a Dwelling-house on that 
ocasion did publickly inform us the witnesses to 
this Instrument that they took each other as Hus- 
band and wife and mutually promised to use their 
best Endeavours through Divine assistance to be 
Faithfull and true to Each other untill Death 
Should Separate them And in Confirmation thereof 
have hereto Set their hands Witnesses present 

William Boin 



Joseph Burr 

Patience Haines by her order 

John Woolraan 

Josiah White 

Benjamin Jones 

Thomas i\ntram 

David Rid g way 

Amey Strattan 

Ann Brooks 

Sarah Fenimore 

Sarah Woolman 

Daniel (last name torn) 

Amey Antram 

William Boin was Born the 
17th Day of August 1769 
A Bought 7 a clock in Night 
as Neare as we can tell. 



Dido Boin 
for negro Catherine mo- 
ther to Dido for negro 
London her father in law 

Hnger 

Daphea 

George Jubetar 

Caesar Mony 

Simes Bustill 

Elizabeth Morton 

Susannah Fenimore 

Cathren Fenimore 

Jeams hage 
Mary Boin was Born the 
23 Day of May 1764 A 
Bought Ten a clock in the 
Night." 




CHAPTER V. 

)N the year 1750/^ said sister Ruth^ ^^ John 
TVoolman lost his excellent father, who 
^5> died, after a short illness, in the 60th year 
W^ of his age. His son bears this testimony 
to his sterling worth : ' In his lifetime he 
manifested much care for us, his children, that in 
our youth we might learn to fear the Lord ; often 
endeavoring to imprint in our minds the true prin- 
ciples of virtue, and particularly to cherish in us a 
spirit of tenderness, not only towards poor people, 
but also towards all creatures, of which we had 
the command/ 

^^ After my return from Carolina, in the year 
1746, I made some observations on keeping slaves, 
which some time before his decease I showed him. 
He perused the manuscript, proposed a few altera- 
tions, and appeared well satisfied that I felt a con- 
cern on that account. In his last sickness, as I 
was watching with him one night, he being so 
spent that there was no expectation of his recov- 
ery, but had the perfect use of his understanding, 
he asked me concerning the manuscript, whether 
I expected soon to proceed to take the advice of 
(56) 



SISTER ruth's stories. 57 

Friends in publishing it ? And, after some con- 
versation thereon, said, ' I have all along been 
deeply affected with the oppression of the poor 
negroes ; and now at last iny concern for them is 
as great as ever/ He made mention of his end, 
which he believed was now near, and signified 
that though he was sensible of many imperfections 
in the course of his life, yet his experience of the 
power of Truth, and of the love and goodness of 
God from time to time, even until now, was such, 
that he had no doubt but that in leaving this life, 
he should enter into one more happy/ The next 
day his sister Elizabeth came to see him, and told 
him of the decease of their sister Ann, who had died 
a few days before. He said, ' I reckon sister Ann 
was free to leave this world ? ^ Elizabeth said she 
was. He then said, ' I also am free to leave it ;' 
and being in great weakness of bod}^, said, ' I hope 
I shall shortly go to rest.^ He continued in a 
weighty frame of mind, and was sensible until 
near the last.'^ 

'' How comforting to this gray-haired pilgrim,^' 
said Anna, ^^ when standing as it were upon the 
top of Pisgah, and reviewing the threescore years 
of his journey, to be able to say, ' it is well;' and 
to look forward with happy assurance to the ' land 
beyond the River,' knowing that there is an in- 
heritance reserved for him ; and although «Tordan's 



58 SISTER ruth's stories. 

swelling tide flows between, yet to be privileged to 
take to himself the consoling promise of the Lord 
to his people, ' When thou passest through the 
waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers, 
they shall not overflow thee/ ^^ 

Little Effie broke the silence by saying, ^^I 
thought thou told me that John Woolman was 
very much interested in the cause of the poor 
slave ; did he not do anything towards the release 
of the oppressed? Did he not try to persuade 
their masters to set them at liberty; especially 
those slave-owners who were Friends ? Thinking 
slavery so great a sin as he did, I do not see how 
he could feel satisfied to sit in meeting alongside 
of those who held slaves, without telling them 
how wrong it was/^ 

'' My dear Efiie,'' responded her sister, '^ he 
doubtless bore witness, by precept as well as 
example, at all suitable times and places, against 
this great iniquity ] but it is said there is a ' zeal 
without knowledge,' and some almost destroy the 
good they might do, by the improper means they 
make use of to accomplish the end. I cannot 
think, with some, that the end sanctifies the means. 
It seems to me, that he who would convince those 
around him of their sins, must be gentle and 
loving ; willing to bear the cross ; to luork prayer- 
fully and faithfully, and be willing, also, to do 



SISTER ruth's stories. 59 

what is far more difficulty to icait — to wait till the 
eyes of others are also anointed with the eye-salve 
that can enable them to see clearly^ and to join 
with him^ not only in condemning the wrong, and 
in removing it from their own households, but in 
persuading others to go and do likewise. Too 
many of the great reformers of all ages, from the 
days of Luther, that bright morning star which 
shone forth so brilliantly, illuminating the sur- 
rounding darkness, to the present time — too 
many, I say, have gone forth bearing, as it were, 
Truth and Eight in one hand, and fire and sword 
in the other, threatening to consume and destroy 
all who would not enlist under their banner, and 
come up to the help of what they considered the 
Right. Too many of their most glorious achieve- 
ments were sullied by bigotry and persecution, by 
slaughter and rapine; and although in the end 
much good resulted from them, yet, it seems to 
me, if these apostles had learned of the Saviour 
to be ' wise as serpents, and harmless as doves,^ 
the same good effects might have been accom- 
plished, in time, and a great amount of evil and 
suffering avoided. But John Woolman, following 
in the footsteps of the Great Teacher, learned of 
him to be meek and lowly — learned of him that 
Divine love which overcometh evil, and which 
enabled him to accomplish so great a work. 



» 



60 SISTER ruth's stories. 

There is a case in point, dear Effie, which 
occurred shortly after the death of his father, 
which shows how strictly he adhered to what he 
believed to he right, and how fearlessly he bore 
his testimony against slavery; although, by so 
doing, he knew he should lose pecuniarily, and 
perhaps, incur the lasting resentment of those 
whom he felt called upon, in the fear of the Lord, 
to rebuke. He says, ^^ About this time, a person, 
at some distance, lying sick, his brother came to 
me to write his will. I knew he had slaves; and 
asking his brother, was told he intended to leave 
them as slaves to his children. As writing is a 
profitable employment, and as offending sober 
people was disagreeable to my inclination, I was 
straightened in my mind ; but as I looked to the 
Lord, he inclined my heart to his testimony. I 
told the man that I believed the practice of con- 
tinuing slavery to this people was not right, and 
had a scruple in my mind against doing writings 
of that kind : that though many in our Society 
kept them as slaves, still I was not easy to be 
concerned in it; and desired to be excused from 
going to write the will. I spake to him in the 
fear of the Lord ; and he made no reply to what 
I said, but went away; he also had some concern 
in the practice ; and I thought he was displeased 
with me. In this case I had a fresh confirmation, 



SISTER ruth's stories. 61 

that acting contrary to present outward interest, 
from a motive of Divine love, and in regard to 
Truth and righteousness, and thereby incurring 
the resentments of people, opens the way to a 
treasure better than silver, and to a friendship 
exceeding the friendship of men." 

His manuscript, or "Essay concerning Slavery,'' 
was also published about this time; so you per- 
ceive, my dear sisters, that both in word and act, 
he was faithful to his profession as a friend of the 
oppressed. He says, furthermore, " Scrupling to 
do writings, relative to keeping slaves, having 
been a means of sundry small trials to me, in 
w^hich I have evidently felt my own will set aside, 
I think it good to mention a few of them. Trades- 
men and retailers of goods, who depend on their 
business for a living, are naturally inclined to 
keep the good-will of their customers; nor is it 
a pleasant thing for young men to be under a 
necessity to question the judgment or honesty of 
elderly men, and more especially of such who 
have a fair reputation. Deep-rooted customs, 
though wrong, are not easily altered; but it is 
the duty of every one to be firm in that which 
they certainly know is" right for them. A chari- 
table, benevolent man, well acquainted with a 
negro, may I believe, under some circumstances, 
keep him in his family a« a servant, on no other 
6 



62 SISTER ruth's stories. 

motives than the negro's good ] but man as man, 
knows not what shall be after him, nor hath he 
any assurance that his children will attain to that 
perfection in wisdom and goodness, necessary 
rightly to exercise such power. Hence it is clear 
to me, that I ought not to be the scribe where 
wills are drawn, in which some children are made 
absolute masters over others during life. 

About this time an ancient man of good esteem 
in the neighborhood, came to my house to get his 
will written. He had young negroes; and I 
asked him privately, how he purposed to dispose 
of them ? he told me; I then said, I cannot write 
thy will without breaking my own peace, and 
respectfully gave him my reasons for it. He 
signified that he had a choice that I should have 
written it; but as I could not do it consistent with 
my conscience, he did not desire it; and so he 
got it written by some other person. A few years 
after, there being great alterations in his family, 
he came again to get me to write his will; his 
negroes were yet young, and his son, to whom he 
intended to give them, since he first spoke to me, 
from being a libertine, had become a sober young 
man ; and he supposed I would be free on that 
account to write it. We had much friendly talk 
on the subject, and then deferred it; a few days 
after, he came again, and directed their freedom; 



SISTER ruth's stories. 63 

and so I wrotQ his "will. Near the time the last- 
mentioned Friend first spoke to me^ a neighbor 
received a bad bruise in his body, and sent for 
me to bleed him; which being done, he desired 
me to write his will. I took notes ; and amongst 
other things^ he told me to which of his children 
he gave his young negro. I considered the pain 
and distress he was in, and knew not how it would 
end; so I wrote his will, save only that part con- 
cerning his slave, and carrying it to his bedside, 
read it to him ; and then told him in a friendly 
way, that I could not write any instrument by 
which my fellow-creatures were made slaves, with- 
out bringing trouble on my mind. I let him 
know that I charged him nothing for what I had 
done; and desired to be excused from doing the 
other part, in the way he proposed : we then had 
a serious conference on the subject; and at length 
he agreeing to set him free, I finished his will/' 

'^And not only at home,'' said Ruth, ^'but 
abroad, did he earnestly labor in the field appointed 
him, speaking both in public and private; 
seldom feeling excused from laboring in a friendly 
way with those who held slaves, in their behalf; 
expressing as way opened, the inconsistency of 
the practice, with the purity of the Christian 
religion, and the ill-efiects of it manifested amongst 
us." Many on this account, particularly in the 



64 SISTER ruth's stories. 

South^ where nearly all^ Friends as well as others, 
held slaves, received him coldly, and felt little 
unfty with his concern; the more especially as he 
did not feel free to accept their hospitality, when 
waited upon by slaves, unless he was permitted 
to offer them something by way of compensation 
for the increase of their toil his coming had made 
them; either by giving it to the master of the 
house for them, or by handing it to the slaves 
himself, as opportunity offered. His thus offering 
money for his entertainment to those who were 
wealthy, and gladly ministered to him, was often 
a great trial, both to himself and his entertainers. 
It was also very humbling thus to have to bear 
his testimony publicly against this iniquity, and 
to have the mark of singularity set upon him ; 
for he alone seemed called upon to exhort the 
people to ^^put away the accursed thing ^' from 
among them — thus differing publicly from those 
who were much older than he, and who, as well 
as himself, had received the anointing from above, 
and the high charge, '' go speak to my people the 
words of eternal life ;" yet none of these laborers, 
though they were in the same gospel-field, seemed 
to sympathize with him in this concern, or to feel 
disquieted with the state of affairs in the churches. 
And before he was willing to utter what he well 
knew to be displeasing to many; to stand, as it 



SISTER ruth's stories. 65 

were, alone in the assemblies of the people, he 
had to endure great distress of mind, and to 
submit to many deep baptisms — and like the 
prophet, Jeremiah, when sent with messages dis- 
agreeable to the Jews, and bidden to do things 
which they held in abhorrence, till he became the 
object of their reproach, and was ready to desist 
from his prophetic office, so John Woolman was 
ready to shrink from what was required of him, 
saying, '^ Who is able for all this V^ But with 
the prophet he could say the ^^ word of the Lord 
was. in my breast, as a burning fire shut up in my 
bones; and I was weary with forbearing, and 
could not stay/^ And at length fully convinced 
that this sacrifice of his own will was required at 
his hand, he was made willing to bear any mes- 
sage to the people, that should be given him from 
on high. He was greatly strengthened in the 
belief that he was in the right way, by a remark- 
able vision which he saw, and which I will relate 
to you in his own words. '^ While engaged in 
visiting families,^^ says he, '' I lodged at a Friend's 
house in Burlington, and going to bed about the 
usual time with me, I awoke in the night, and my 
meditations, as I lay, were on the goodness and 
mercy of the Lord, in a sense whereof my heart 
was contrite. After this I went to sleep again, 
and sleeping a short time, I awoke; it was yet 
6* 



66 SISTER ruth's stories. 

dark, and no appearance of day or moonshine; 
and as I opened mine eyes, I saw a light in my 
chamber, at the apparent distance of five feet, 
about nine inches in diameter, of a clear, easy 
brightness, and near its centre the most radiant. 
As I lay still, without any surprise looking upon 
it, words were spoken to my inward ear which 
filled my whole inner man ; they were not the 
effect of thought, nor any conclusion in relation 
to the appearance, but as the language of the 
Holy One spoken in my mind ; the words were 
Certain Evidence of Divine Truth ; and were 
again repeated exactly in the same manner ; where- 
upon the light disappeared/^ 

Until the year 1756, John Woolman had con- 
tinued to ^^ retail goods,^^ besides following his 
trade as a tailor. He commenced with sellino: 
trimmings for garments, and then advanced to 
selling cloths, linens, &c., always taking care not 
to purchase any fancy articles, only keeping on 
hand such things as were really useful. His 
natural inclination was ^^ towards merchandizing,^' 
and having at length a good stock on hand, and 
his business increasing every year, he was in a 
fair way to carry on an extensive trade. But he 
had learned, long ere this, to be content with 
little, and dreading the cumber and anxiety of an 
extensive concern, and the entanglements it might 



SISTER ruth's stories. 67 

lead him into — believing that the Lord required 
him to take up the cross to his natural inclination, 
and keep himself free from outward engagements, 
he gradually lessened them ; gave his customers 
notice of his intention to quit the business, that 
they might make arrangements to trade elsewhere, 
and at last, wholly giving up merchandize, de- 
pended for a living upon his trade, carried on in 
a simple, unpretending manner, not even having 
an apprentice to assist him. He planted a nursery, 
and spent much time in tending the young trees 
— for while his hands were busy with this peace- 
ful occupation, his thoughts were free to wander 
unconfined ; to ponder upon the wisdom and good- 
ness displayed in all the works of nature by which 
he was surrounded ; to see the handiwork of the 
Good Father in the budding trees and fragrant 
flowers ; and to behold his footsteps upon the old 
rocks where the gray lichen lovingly clings. 

Released from the cares of business, like the 
patriarch of old, he could go forth into the fields 
at eventide to meditate, and was ready to carry 
the gospel-message wherever the Master pointed 
the way. Ev^en while engaged in merchandize, 
he was careful to do as he would be done by, often 
advising the poor not to run into debt, or to get 
things they could do without, although by this 
advice he sold fewer goods; for it was the custom 



68 SISTER ruth's stories. 

where he lived, to ^^ sell mostly on credit, and 
poor people often got in debt ; and when payment 
is expected, not having wherewith to pay, their 
creditors often sue for it at law/^ While in the 
store he could not help seeing, that the custom of 
wearing costly apparel, and the frequent use of 
spirituous liquors, many times led people into 
great difficulty; they involved themselves in debt, 
and sometimes had recourse to dishonorable prac- 
tices to free themselves from this heavy yoke that 
bowed them to the earth. These things troubled 
this good man ; he felt concerned to advise Friends 
to live in simplicity, both as regards the furnish- 
ing of their houses, and their apparel; and he 
was particularly concerned to discourage the fre- 
quent and immoderate use of strong drink, know- 
ing it to be a snare to catch the feet of the 
unwary, and lead them down into the depths of 
degradation and misery. 

^' Dear sister,'^ said the gentle Anna, " as I have 
listened to thy words to-night, and entered, in my 
small measure, into sympathy with John Woolman 
in his tried and lonely condition, when he was 
ready to cry out with the prophet, ^If thou deal 
thus with me, kill me I pray thee, if I have found 
f\ivor in thy sight/ I have been reminded of Elijah, 
who, when fleeing from Ahab's wicked queen, came 
to Horeb, the mount of God, lamenting that the 



SISTER ruth's stories. 69 

Lord's prophets were all slain, and that he alone 
was left alive. And yet, when journeying solitary, 
faint and wayworn, he threw himself down ^neath 
the juniper tree, praying that he too might die, 
there the angel gave him food, and pressed the 
healing cup to his parched lips, so that strength- 
ened and refreshed, he again took up his staff, and 
went on his way to Horeb, there to hear the com- 
forting language that there were yet seven thou- 
sand who had not ^ bowed the knee to the image 
of Baal.' Those only who bear the cross can win 
the crown.'' As she paused, her sister followed 
out her thought, by repeating, as if to herself, an 
exquisitely beautiful paragraph from the ^^ Golden 
Treasury/' Stars shine brightest in the darkest 
night; torches are better for heating; grapes come 
not to the proof till they come to the press ; spices 
smell best when bruised ; young trees root the 
faster for shaking ; gold looks brighter for scour- 
ing; juniper smells sweetest in the fire; the palm- 
tree proves the better for pressing; chamomile, 
the more you tread it, the more you spread it ; and 
grace that is hid in nature, as sweet water in rose- 
leaves, is most fragrant when the fire of affliction 
is distilling it." 




CHAPTER VI. 

OME, dear sister/^ said little Willie^ as lie 
drew his sister's chair to the table^ and 
arranged her footstool to her liking ) " I 
am so anxious to hear more concerning 
John Woolman's travels in the South. I 
am so glad he took so much money with him, and 
paid the poor slaves for waiting on him; they must 
have been very glad of his coming, for no doubt 
he spoke to them very kindly, as well as gave them 
money. I don't suppose they often have much 
money of their own, not enough to buy any good 
things to eat, or even to purchase toys for their 
little ones ; how sorry I do feel for the children. 
I wonder if the little slave-boys ever have any 
skates or sleds to play with in the winter, when 
the rivers are frozen over, or any balls or mar- 
bles — how I wish I could give them some of 
mine/' 

'' Dear Ruth,'' said Effie, " dost thou suppose 
John Woolman ever told the slaves to run away 
from their masters, or suggested how much happier 
they would be at the North than at the South ? Did 
they have any underground railroads then ?" 

(70) 



SISTER ruth's stories. 71 

^^ I .cannot say positively^ Effie; but judging 
from what we know of his life and conversation, 
he no doubt acted discreetly — going to the mas- 
ters and pleading with them to liberate their 
slaves; showing them that, in keeping them in 
bondage, they were transgressing the law of the 
Lord, and preparing for their posterity many and 
terrible evils. And while he commiserated the 
condition of the slave, and his heart burned within 
him when he thought of his wrongs, yet he knew, 
even if he persuaded a few to run away, it would 
not affect the condition of the mass, nor alleviate 
their sorrows, and indeed might add to them by 
sowing the seeds of distrust in the minds of the 
masters, so that strangers would have no oppor- 
tunity given them to speak the fevf words of coun- 
sel, of encouragement, of sympathy, which they 
now might safely do. I have read somewhere of 
Warner Mifflin, I think it was, becoming very 
much interested in a slave, and greatly desiring his 
liberation. After using every exertion in his power 
to free him, pleading with the owner to no pur- 
pose, in his last interview he requested the liberty 
of a few minutes private conversation with the 
slave. The request w^as granted, but the master, 
curious to know what he would say to him, and 
fearing that he would urge him to run away, sta- 
tioned himself, unknown to any one, where he 



iZ SISTER RUTH S STORIES. 

could overliear the conversation. To his great 
surprise, the Friend expressed his deep regret that 
his efforts had been in vain, that his most eloquent 
pleadiug had not availed to touch his master's 
heart. He encouraged him to be faithful to his 
employer, to perform cheerfully and faithfully all 
the tasks allotted him, not as an ^ eye-servant, but 
as in the sight of God/ to hold fast his faith and 
trust — and though the yoke of servitude might 
never be broken, yet even he might receive the 
welcome plaudit of ^ well done / and for the cross 
he had borne in this life, he should receive a glo- 
rious crown in the life to come.' The master was 
so deeply touched by the Christian spirit, the cha- 
rity and forbearance manifested toward him by 
the Friend, that his persuasions and reasonings, 
which before had little weight, now like the spear 
of Ithuriel, struck home, softening his heart, and 
disposing him to be merciful. If my memory 
serves me truly, the master set his slave at liberty, 
and master, slave, and friend were united in the 
bonds of kindly feeling, which continued uninter- 
rupted through many years.'' 

Love, Christian love, is the key that unlocks 
the hardest hearts ; if love cannot effect an en- 
trance, be sure that hatred and unkindness can- 
not. 

But to return to the journeyings of John Wool- 



SISTER ruth's stories. 73 

man in the South ; we find that his way seemed 
to lead over the hills of Difficulty — so much oppo- 
sition, uncharitableness, and unkindness did he 
meet with, even from members of his own society. 
As in the present day, many of those who held 
slaves, blinded by the love of gain, advocated their 
right to hold them; arguing that the "negroes 
were understood to be the offspring of Cain, their 
blackness being the mark God set upon him after 
he murdered Abel, his brother, and that it was 
the design of Providence they should be slaves, 
as a condition proper to the race of so wicked a 
man as Cain was -j^ and much more to the same 
purpose. To which John Woolman replied in 
substance as follows, " Noah and his family were 
all who survived the flood, according to Scripture; 
and as Noah was of Seth's race, the family of 
Cain was wholly destroyed/' One of them said, 
that ^^ After the flood, Ham went to the Land of 
Nod, and took a wife ; that Nod was a land far 
distant, inhabited by Cain's race, and that the 
flood did not reach it ; and as Ham was sentenced 
to be a servant of servants to his brethren, these 
two families, joined thus, were undoubtedly fit 
only for slaves/' John Woolman replied, " The 
flood was a judgment upon the world for their 
abominations; and it was granted that Cain's 
stock was the most wicked, and therefore unreason- 
7 



74 SISTER ruth's stories. 

able to suppose they were spared : as to Ham^s 
going to the Land of Nod for a wife, no time 
being fixed, Nod might be inhabited by some of 
NoaVs family, before Ham married a second time ;'' 
moreover the text saith, '^ That all flesh died that 
moved upon the earth/' He further reminded 
them, that the prophets repeatedly declare, that 
the " son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the 
father; but every one be answerable for his own 
sins/' He was greatly troubled to perceive the 
darkness of their imaginations, and, in ^^some 
pressure of spirit,'' said, the ^^ love of ease and 
gain are the motives, in general, of keeping slaves, 
and men are wont to take hold of weak arguments 
to support a cause which is unreasonable. I 
have no interest on either side, save only the 
interest which I desire to have in the Truth ; and 
as I believe liberty is their right, and see they are 
not only deprived of it, but treated in other 
respects with inhumanity in many places, I 
believe He who is a refuge for the oppressed 
will, in His own time, plead their cause ; and 
happy will it be for such who walk in uprightness 
before him." 

John Woolman was greatly shocked, while 
travelling through the Southern States, with the 
scanty food and clothing allowed to the slaves, and 
the severity with which they were treated — first 



SISTER rl'th's stories. 75 

setting them hard tasks^ and then punishing them 
for the non-performance of these tasks. Not he 
alone, but some who resided in the neighborhood, 
felt bound to bear their testimony against oppres- 
sion. He relates the following anecdote of a 
Mennonist at Monallen. (The Mennonists were 
a religious society among the Dutch.) '^ This 
man having an acquaintance with a man of another 
society at a considerable distance, and being with 
his wagon on business near the house of said ac- 
quaintance, and night coming on, he had thought 
of putting up with him ; but passing by his fields, 
and observing the distressed appearance of his 
slaves, he kindled a fire in the woods hard by, and 
lay there that night. His acquaintance hearing 
where he lodged, and afterward meeting the 
Mennonist, told him of it ; adding, he should 
have been heartily welcome at his house; and, 
from their acquaintance in former time, he 
wondered at his conduct in that case. The Men- 
nonist replied, ' Ever since I lodged by thy fields, 
I have wanted an opportunity to speak with thee. 
I intended to come to thy house for entertain- 
ment, but seeing thy slaves at their work, and 
observing the manner of their dress, I had no 
liking to come to partake with thee.^ He then 
admonished him to use them with more humanity; 
^nd added, ^As I lay by the fire that night, I 



76 SISTER ruth's stories. 

thouglit that, as I was a man of substance, thou 
wouldsfc have received me freely; but if I had 
been as poor as one of thy slaves, and had no 
power to help myself, I should have received from 
thy hand no kinder usage than they." 

About this time (1757), John Woolman was 
greatly exercised concerning paying the taxes 
levied for carrying on the war. Many good and 
jipright men, both in England and America, 
among Friends, men whom he had long regarded 
as fathers in the church, believed it right to pay 
these taxes, as they were levied by the govern- 
ment, whose authority, as good and order-loving 
citizens, they were bound to respect. He had 
many conversations with noted Friends on the 
subject, who all favored the payment of these 
taxes; reminding him of the Saviour^s words, 
'^ Render to Caesar the things that be Caesar's, 
and to God the things that be God's. ^' And 
though many of these, his advisers, he '' preferred 
before himself," yet it did not seem to him that 
their example was a sufficient reason for him to 
do so, when he believed the Spirit of Truth 
required of him, as an individual, to suffer 
patiently the spoiling of his goods, rather than 
to pay these taxes, and thus indirectly aid in 
carrying on the war. It was a source of deep 
regret to him, that he was compelled so frequently 



SISTER ruth's stories. 77 

to differ from his friends, those, too, who were far 
before him, both in age and experience; but he 
was comforted by remembering, that the Master 
sets apart many fields of labor ; and diverse too, 
the labor in the same field ; and these may have 
had some other testimony to bear, which was not 
laid upon him ; they could not perform his ap- 
pointed work, nor he theirs. He remembered, 
too, that the '' holy monk of Kempen ^^ lived and 
died, a firm believer in the doctrines of the Roman 
Catholic Church, preaching, both by word and 
deed, the necessity of looking beyond forms and 
ceremonies, which are but types and shadows, and 
coming to the inward spiritual religion which 
alone can save the soul ; saying to the people, as 
the Messiah said to the woman of Samaria, 
'^ Neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, 
shall ye worship the Father ; but the true worship- 
pers shall worship him in spirit and in truth.'' 
Many sad hearts have been comforted by the 
perusal of his holy thoughts ; many who went on 
their way, weary, and ready to faint, because of 
the heaviness of their burden, and the toilsome- 
ness of their pilgrimage, have been strengthened 
by his words, to take the cross again upon their 
shoulders, and go on their way rejoicing — con- 
vinced that the only royal road to Heaven is the 
^* way of the cross." 
7^ 



78 SISTER ruth's stories. 

On the other hand^ for protesting against 
some of these same doctrines, in which Kempis 
found satisfaction, John Huss, also a great and 
upright man, without the gates of stately Con- 
stance, bore the martyr's suffering and shame, and 
won the martyr's crown. 

'^ If every one,^^ remarked their sister Anna, 
^^ possessed that holy charity which so eminently 
distinguished John Woolman, instead of watching 
our brother to see that he is busy, and saying, 
' What shall this man do V we should be intent 
upon doing our own work, and cultivating dili- 
gently that corner of the Lord's vineyard in which 
we have been commanded to labor ) leaving it to 
the Great Husbandman to hire other laborers, at 
the third, or the ninth, or the eleventh hour, even 
as it seems good to Him. Both a Kempis and a 
Huss might have found room in the world to do 
great good; and though they, and many other con- 
scientious and well-intentioned ones of those days 
of darkness and bigotry, differed as regards minor 
points of doctrine, yet giving each other the right 
hand of fellowship, they might have taken their 
separate ways, as the two great apostles of the 
Jews and the Gentiles did, both following in the 
footsteps of the Saviour, and intent upon doing 
his work, as it had been revealed to each. Instead 
of the sensitive spirit of one being deeply pained 



SISTER ruth's stories. 79 

by the dissensions and persecution whicli he 
lamented yet could not hinder, and the other, ere 
yet his day had scarce reached the noon-tide — 
ere his work was scarce begun, numbered among 
the dead ; they might both have lived to a good 
old age, crowned with honor^ and happy in the 
blessed assurance that they ' had fought the good 
fight, they had kept the faith,^ and hence there 
was laid up for them a ^ crown of life/ All the 
sectarian feeling and hatred that erected the stake 
and kindled the fagot in the dark days of perse- 
cution that we shudder to think of, would have 
been avoided. May the mantle of holy charity 
which covered John Woolman as a garment, fall 
upon, our shoulders, so that we may be preserved 
from thinking evil of our fellows, and condemning 
utterly those who may not see with us.^^ 

'^ Committees from the different meetings/^ re- 
sumed sister Ruth, '' met at Philadelphia, to con- 
sider the expediency of paying these taxes, and 
of employing substitutes in the place of those who 
were drafted. The calamities of war were now 
increasing; the frontier inhabitants of Pennsyl- 
vania were frequently surprised, some slain, and 
many taken captive by the Indians ; and while 
these committees were sitting, the corpse of one 
so slain was brought in a wagon and taken through 
the streets of the city in his bloody garments; to 



80 SISTER ruth's stories. 

alarm the people and rouse them up to war. To 
refuse to pay taxes at such a time, or to seem un- 
willing to do anything towards equipping and pro- 
viding things necessary to the comfort of those 
who went forth, as it were, with their lives in 
their hand, to defend their cities from the attacks 
of the Indians, to protect their wives and children 
from the scalping-knife of the pitiless savages, 
might easily be construed into an act of disloyalty ; 
and though many of the officers respected these 
scruples of conscience in those whose lives had 
been consistent with their profession, yet some of 
the Friends suffered severely, being fined, and 
their goods, which were often sold at a great sacri- 
fice, taken to pay this fine ; and, what was still 
more trying, some were thrown into prison. John 
Woolman, in reference to this, says, ^ Officers who 
in great anxiety are endeavoring to get troops to 
answer the demands of their superiors, seeing 
men, who are insincere, pretend a scruple of con- 
science, in hopes of being excused from a danger- 
ous employment, are likely to handle them roughly. 
In this time of commotion, some of our young 
men left the parts and travelled abroad till it was 
over ; some came and proposed to go as soldiers ] 
others appeared to have a real tender scruple in 
their minds against joining in wars, and were 
much humbled under the apprehension of a trial 



SISTER RL Til's STORIES. 81 

SO near. I had conversation with several of thcte 
to my satisfaction.^^ 

^^At the set time^ when the captain came to 
town, some of those last-mentioned went and told 
him in substance as follows : ' That they could not 
bear arms for conscience'-sake^ nor could they hire 
any to go in their places, being resigned as to the 
event of it. At length the captain acquainted 
them all that they might return home for the pres- 
ent^ and required them to provide themselves as 
soldiers^ and to be in readiness to march when 
called upon. This was such a time as I had not 
seen before ; and yet I may say with thankfulness 
to the Lord, that I believed this trial was intended 
for our good ] and I was favored with resignation to 
him. The French army having taken the fort they 
were besieging, destroyed it and went away; the 
company of men first drafted^ after some days^ 
march, had orders to return home ; and those on 
the second draft were no more called upon on that 
occasion.^ He says furthermore, ' On the 4tli 
day of the 4th month^ in the year 1758, orders 
came to some officers in Mount Holly to prepare 
quarters for a short time for about one hundred sol- 
diers; an officer and two other men, all inhabitants 
of our town, came to my house, and the officer 
told me that he came to speak with me to provide 
lodging and entertainment for two soldiers^ there 



82 SISTER ruth's stories. 

being six shillings a week per man allowed as pay 
fcTr it. The case being new and unexpected, I 
made no answer suddenly, but sat a time silent, 
my mind being turned inward. I was fully con- 
vinced that the proceedings in war are inconsistent 
with the purity of the Christian religion ; and to 
be hired to entertain men who were then under 
pay as soldiers, was a difficulty with me. I ex- 
pected they had legal authority for what they did, 
and after a short time I said to the officer, if the 
men are sent here for entertainment, I believe I 
shall not refuse to admit them into my house ; but 
the nature of the case is such, that I expect I 
cannot keep them on hire. One of the men inti- 
mated that he thought I might do it consistently 
with my religious principles ; to which I made no 
reply, believing silence at that time best for me. 
Though they spoke of two, there came only one, 
who tarried at my house about two weeks, and be- 
haved himself civilly ; and when the officer came 
to pay me, I told him I could not take pay for it, 
having admitted him into my house in passive 
obedience to authority. I was on horseback when 
he spoke to me, and as I turned from him, he said 
lie was obliged to me ; to which I said nothing — 
but thinking on the expression, I grew uneasy; 
and afterwards, being near where he lived, I went 
and told him on what grounds I refused taking 
pay for keeping the soldier.'^ 



CHAPTER VII. 

'' ^ ^^^ sister/^ said little Willie, ^' I thought 
Nrl thou told me the other day, that the In- 
dians in Pennsylvania loved William 
Penn, and called him father Onas; and 
that they were very kind to the white 
people, and brought them meat when they killed 
a deer, and shared with them their corn, beans, 
&c., and helped them to build their houses ; and 
that, because William Penn bought their lands of 
them, there was no war there as in the other 
colonies/' 

'' For many years, dear Willie,'^ said Ruth, " the 
white people and the Indians both observed the 
treaty made by Penn ; peace and harmony were 
preseiTed unbroken, the Indians coming and going 
unmolested, enterino; the dwellincrs of the white 
people at night when hungry, and getting for 
themselves something to eat, without disturbing 
the family, and expecting them to come into their 
wigwams and use the same freedom. For many 
years the tomahawk was buried, and the war-cry 
was unheard in their borders. But at length am- 
bitious men obtaining the rule, they departed 

(83) 



84 SISTER ruth's stories. 

from the wise policy of Penn — they violated the 
solemn treaties that had been made with them ; 
drove them from their hunting-grounds ; sold the 
terrible ^fire-water' to the red-man; till in time 
the spirit of hatred was aroused; they formed 
secret plans for attacking the different settlements 
of the white people, at the same time, throughout 
the colony — intending to fall upon them in the 
dead of night, when they were unarmed, not think- 
ing of danger, and thus to exterminate the whole 
race. They painted their faces, and shouted their 
war-cry ; and so great was their thirst for blood, 
that they seemed more like demons let loose to 
ravage and destroy, than like human beings. They 
killed the inhabitants even in the land of Penn, 
scalping men, women, and children ; sparing nei- 
ther youth nor maiden, the infant nor the hoary- 
headed sire who had lived his three-score years. 
They drove away their cattle, and set their dwell- 
ings on fire, so that many of those who escaped 
from the battle-axes of these fierce warriors per- 
ished with cold and hunger. Their anger and 
revenge were terrible, but their wrongs were great ; 
the forests where they once roamed uncontrolled, 
are now clothed with ^waving fields of ripened 
grain;' the streams where their canoes once noise- 
lessly glided, are now covered with the merchant- 
ships of almost every nation. Their wigwams are 



SISTER ruth's stories. 85 

consumed; tlieir council-fires are extinguished to 
be rekindled no more ; the ploughshare has up- 
turned the sod where the ashes of their warriors 
repose. The pale-face inhabits the land of their 
fathers; and the feeble remnant of a once proud 
and noble race are driven beyond the Father of 
Waters, towards the land of the setting sun. My 
heart aches when I think of their wrongs, and 
the tear-drops dim my eye, as I listen, to their 
plaintive lamentations. ""^ 

The silence that succeeded was broken by Effie's 
repeating in low, earnest tones, a poem which she 
had a few weeks before committed to memory. It 
was called 

THE Indian's lament. 

"When the day was just departing, 
And the twilight hour was near, 

Came a wail that seemed a death-chant 
As it fell upon my ear. 

As I listened, in the distance 
Heard I thus the sounds of wo, 

Wafted by the gentle night-breeze, 
Coming to me soft and low ; 

*'I have come from afar where the Iowa flows, 
And I stand by the graves where my fathers repose, 
Tis a lone shady spot in the flowery glen, 
Afar from the haunts and the footsteps of men. 
8 



S6 SISTER ruth's stories. 

*'T liave longed once again, ere I sink to my rest, 
To behold the loved spot that my childish feet 

pressed ; 
To revisit the land that I once called my home, 
Where my brothers were with me accustomed to roam. 

**I have found the dear spot, the same flowery lea- 
And the chirp of the cricket, the hum of the bee, 
And the song of the lark as it greeteth the sun, 
Fall as sweet on my ear as they ever have done. 

•. 
** The leaves are as green, and the flowers as fair, 

And my cheek is still fanned by the same balmy air, 

As in days long gone by, when my mother, with joy, 

Welcomed home at the gloaming, her wild, fearless 

boy. 

*'But no more shall I stand in the old cabin-door. 
Nor rest my tired limbs on its rude, earthen floor 
To the pitiless flames it hath fallen a prey. 
And the rude winds have swept e'en the ashes away. 

** In the greenwood, w^here once we pursued the wild 

deer. 
The shout of the hunter no more greets the ear ; 
But the wheat-fields there wave with the ripening 

grain, 
And the sweet-scented clover perfumes all the plain. 

"In these glens, ere the ploughshare had upturned 
the sod, 
When the red-man was lord of the soil which he 
trod — 



SISTER ruth's stories. 87 

Round their council-fires gathered, our wise men and 

brave, 
War and Peace here discussed — sought their nation 

to save. 

" But alas ! they are gone — and I only remain, 
Of a people who once from the field of the slain, 
Came exultingly home, always victors in war. 
Till the dread of our name through the land reached 
afar. 

*' But the bow is unbent, the spear broken in twain, 
And our fires are extinguished, to burn not again ; 
By the sword of the white-man our warriors fell, 
And their bones strewed the ground, like the leaves 
in the dell. 

*■' Like the oak of the mountain, once proudly I stood, 
Defying the tempest, unmoved by the flood ; 
Now, an old withered tree, standing branchless and 

bare. 
Not a scion is left me, nor floweret fair. 

" There are none for my pain and my sorrow to feel — 
There is no healing balsam, my sick heart to heal; 
I have sung my own Requiem, all weary, forlorn, — 
For the soul of the red-man will pass with the 
morn!" 

When the laborers from the village 

Early took their lonely way. 
In the leafy glen secluded, 

Lo ! the dying Indian lay. 



bo SISTER RUTH S STORIES. 

Death had come, a kindly angel, 

Opened wide the prison door, 
Loosed the cords, to earth, that bound him — 

All his toil and grief were o'er ! 

^^ It is wonderful/^ said Mary, ^' that among all 
the good men and women living in those days, 
none were found to stand forth as fellow-helpers 
of John AVoolman ; that there were none whose 
eyes were opened to see the iniquity of slavery, 
and who were ready to labor with him for the 
release of the oppressed, and the doing away of 
the terrible traffic in flesh and blood, at least 
within their own borders. I wonder that he did 
not become discouraged at having to labor alone 
in the field which he saw was ^ white to the har- 
vest/ yet where no man seemed ready to thrust in 
his sickle with him • not even ready to follow after 
and bind up the sheaves. It is wonderful that his 
feet did not stumble over the obstructions that lay 
hidden in his path — that his faith did not fail 
him, so as to lead him seriously to doubt whether 
he was indeed accomplishing the work appointed 
him ; whether he had not been too zealous, and 
like Ahimaaz of old, he had run before he was 
sent, and therefore the ^tidings' which he bore 
were of little account.^' 

'^ Dear Mary," said Anna, " although his bro- 



SISTER ruth's stories. 89 

thers and sisters in the ministry did not always 
give liim the right hand of fellowship, and though 
for many years^ there was, as thou hast said, no 
one to labor with him, no one ready to follow where 
he led, yet, like Nicodenius of old, many secretly 
believed with him, though interest, and the fear 
of being thought ^singular,' kept back some 
for a time; yet, at length, many did join him, and 
became his zealous co-laborers and helpers in the 
great work. It has been the lot, not only of a 
Woolman and a Wilberforce, to labor alone for a 
season — but even the great law-giver of the Israel- 
ites went alone up into the mountain, where the 
tables of stone were given him. No doubt these 
all had their seasons of discouragement, when the 
flesh was weak, and when in view of the reproach, 
the persecution, they met with, they were ready 
to take up the sorrowful refrain : ^ Behold I, even 
I only, am left ; and they seek my life to take it 
away.' No doubt the angel of the Lord came to 
all these in the wilderness, and bade them ' rise 
and eat' of the food from Heaven, and thus 
strengthened them for their journey to Horeb the 
mount of God.'' '^^ 

" After so many years of patient labor,'^ resumed 
their sister Ruth, ^^he was richly rewarded by 
seeing many of his friends enter the same field, 
8^ 



90 SISTER ruth's stories. 

so that instead of the lamentation that there ^ was 
no one to thrust in the sickle with him, nor to 
bind up the sheaves after the reapers/ he could 
sing a song of thanksgiving and high praises to 
Him who had sent forth laborers into the harvest- 
field. For, in the summer of 1758, the ' monthly 
meeting of Philadelphia, having been under a 
concern on account of some Friends who had 
bought negro slaves, the said meeting moved it 
to their Quarterly meeting, to have the minutes 
re-considered in their Yearly meeting/ ' In this 
Yearly meeting,^ says John Woolman, ^ several 
weighty matters were considered ; and towards the 
last, that in relation to dealing with persons who 
purchase slaves. The case of slave-keeping lay 
heavy upon me — nor did I find any engagement 
to speak directly to any other matter before the 
meeting. When this case was opened, several 
faithful friends spoke weightily thereto, with 
which I was comforted ; and feeling a concern to 
cast in my mite, I said in substance as follows : — 
In the difficulties attending us in this life, nothing 
is more precious than the mind of Truth inwardly 
manifested ; and it is my earnest desire that in 
this weighty matter we may be so truly humbled 
as to be favored with a clear understanding of the 
mind of Truth and follow it ; this would be of 
more advantage to the Society than any medium 



SISTER ruth's stories. 91 

not in the clearness of Divine wisdom. The case 
is difficult to some who have slaves, but if such 
set aside all self-interest, and come to be weaned 
from the desire of getting estates, or even from 
holding them together, when Truth requires the 
contrary, I believe a way will open that they will 
know how to steer through those difficulties. Many 
Friends appeared to be deeply bowed under the 
weight of the work, and manifested much firmness 
in their love to the cause of Truth and universal 
righteousness on the earth. Though none openly 
justified the practice of slave-keeping in general, 
yet some appeared concerned lest the meeting 
should go into such measures as might give 
uneasiness to many brethren; alleging that if 
Friends patiently continued under the exercise, 
the Lord, in time to come, might open a way for 
the deliverance of these people. Several Friends 
who had negroes expressed a desire that a 
rule might be made to deal with such Friends, 
as offenders, who bought slaves in future. To this 
it was answered, that the root of this evil would 
never be effectually struck at, until a thorough 
search was made into the circumstances of such 
Friends who kept negroes, with respect to the 
righteousness of their motives in keeping them, that 
impartial justice might be administered through- 



92 SISTER ruth's stories. 

out. In conclusion^ in compliance with the wishes 
of several weighty Friends, a committee was ap- 
pointed to visit all the families wherein slaves were 
kept.^^ 

For some months John TToolman spent most of 
his time in visiting the Friends belonging to Phi- 
ladelphia Yearly meeting, who kept slaves, going, 
when opportunity offered, with some of the com- 
mittee regularly appointed to that service, among 
whom were Daniel Stanton, John Scarborough, 
John Churchman, and others — at other times 
going alone. In the Fourth month, 1760, in com- 
pany with his ' beloved friend Samuel Eastburn,' 
he set out on a religious visit to the Friends in 
Long Island, Boston, Newport, &c. Very few 
were the facilities for travel in those days, com- 
pared with the present — and what would be now 
but a pleasure-trip, was then a serious under- 
taking. He says, '' We crossed from the east end 
of Long Island to Xew London, about thirty miles, 
in a large open boat ; while we were out, the wind 
rising high, the waves several times beat over us, 
and to me it appeared dangerous ; but my mind 
was at that time turned to Him who made and 
governs the deep, and my life was resigned to 
Him ; and as he was mercifully pleased to pre- 
serve us, I had fresh occasion to consider every 



t5' 



SISTER ruth's stories. 93 

day as a day lent to me ; and felt a renewed en- 
gagement to devote my time and all I had to Him 
who gave it/' While at Newport, attending the 
Yearly meeting there, he was greatly troubled by 
a report that reached him, that a " large number 
of slaves had been imported from Africa to that 
town, and were then on sale by a member of the 
Society of Friends/' 

He was brought into deep exercise of spirit on 
account of this trade with the natives of the coast 
of Guinea, and way not opening to visit, in per- 
son, the Assembly for the colony which was then 
in session, he prepared an essay on the subject, 
which was read in the Yearly meeting, approved 
of by many Friends, and signed by several of 
them, not as a Yearly meeting's committee, or by 
the authority of the Yearly meeting, but as they 
individually felt disposed so to do. In speaking 
of their visit to Nantucket, he says, ^'I observed 
many shoals in the bay, which make sailing more 
dangerous, especially in stormy nights ; also, that 
a great shoal, which encloses their harbor, pre- 
vents their going in with slooj)s, except when the 
tide is up. Waiting without this shoal for the 
rising of the tide is sometimes hazardous in 
storms; waiting within, they sometimes miss a fair 
wind. I took notice that on this small island was 



94 

a great number of inhabitants, and the soil not 
very fertile — the timber so gone, that for vessels, 
fences, and firewood, they depend chiefly on the 
buying from the main ; to answer the cost whereof, 
with most of their other expenses, they depend 
principally upon the whale-fishery. I considered 
that as towns grew larger, and lands near naviga- 
ble waters were more cleared, it would require 
more labor to get timber and wood. I understood 
that the whales being much hunted, and some- 
times W'Ounded and not killed, grew more shy and 
difficult to come at. I considered that the forma- 
tion pf the earth, the seas, the islands, bays and 
rivers, the motion of the winds and great waters 
which cause bars and shoals in particular places, 
were all the works of Him who is perfect wisdom 
and goodness ; and as people attend to his hea- 
venly instruction, and put their trust in Him, He 
provides for them in all parts where He gives them 
a being.'' 

'' I have been particularly struck,'' said Anna, 
^^ with one peculiarity of John Woolman's writings. 
Taking some comparatively trivial subject, some 
circumstance, that many would pass by unheeded, 
following out the train of thought — paraphrasino- 
it, as it were — he goes onward and onward, in an 
ever-enlarging circle, till at length he reaches the 
Throne of God, and leads his readers with him, to 



/ 
SISTER ruth's stories. 95 

see the wisdom and goodness of the Almighty, 
displayed even in the meanest and most insignifi- 
cant things of his wonderful creation. Involunta- 
rily when reading his ' contemplations/ the beau- 
tiful words of the poet have come to my recollec- 
tion : — 

*' Thus the men 
Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself 
Hold converse ; grow familiar, day by day, 
With his conceptions; act upon his plan. 
And form to his, the relish of their souls." 




CHAPTER VIII. 

HAVE heard/^ said Effie, ^^that John 
Woolman was a very singular looking 
man ; at least that he dressed very singu- 
larly, never wearing any colored clothes ; 
I mean those that are artificially dyed, but 
having them all of the natural color of the mate- 
rial of which they were made. I do not wonder 
so much at his wearing a hat of the natural color 
of the fur, for that would be pretty, and not very 
odd-looking; but to wear a coat made of the wool 
of a black sheep even, must have been very 
homely, to say the least ; and I should think it 
would have put the people to considerable incon- 
venience to prepare a certain kind of cloth espe- 
cially for him. I do not see what his motive could 
have been for such singularity, or why he was any 
better for dressing so differently from other people. 
Hundreds of other good and upright men have 
lived, who were real benefactors to their race, and 
who were intent upon doing the Father's work, 
and yet did not think it wrong to dress somewhat 
after the fashion of the day. Even George Fox 

(96) 




-\^->^Vt'='^->^ 



SISTER ruth's stories. 97 

and William Penn^ though they protested against 
fashionable follies and extravagance^ and insisted 
upon simplicity in attire^ as well as in speech^ did 
not affect' a singularity in dress; for their broad 
brims^ and long^ straight coats^ I iave read^ were 
worn not only by them^ but by all the sober^ staid 
class of people of that age. Now, if, in order to 
procure colored clothing, he had been dependent 
upon the labor of the slave, I could see some rea- 
son for it; but when he could have the cloth made 
and dyed at home, I cannot see what great harm 
could arise from wearing colored garments, or what 
great good it could do to be so singular. ^^ 

''- My dear EiSe/^ responded Ruth, '' John Wool- 
man's heart was filled with compassion, as he looked 
abroad in the world, and considered how many 
must toil to supply the luxuries which numbers 
of the wealthy and fashionable indulged in ; how 
few of these poor laborers received a reasonable 
compensation for their toil, working ceaselessly day 
after day, and year after year, during the whole 
of their short lives, to earn a scanty pittance, just 
sufficient to keep soul and body together — and he 
longed to do something to ameliorate their condi- 
tion. And as Friends, in the large cities, espe- 
cially, extended their business and amassed wealth, 
too many of them fell, little by little, into this 
luxury and extravagance, departing from the sim- 



yo SISTER RUTH S STORIES. 

plicity which once distinguished them as a so- 
ciety. 

And I do not wonder that John Woolman, 
sensitive as he was to all kinds of suffering, given 
to contemplation, and to looking afar off to the 
ulterior consequences of things, should feel called 
upon to preach loudly by example, as well as by 
precept, against what he considered vain and 
hurtful indulgences. I too, dear Effie, have some- 
times wondered, why he needed to be quite so 
singular in his apparel, why he could not wear 
colored stuffs, dyed with the bark of the trees 
from our own forests, which could have been pro- 
cured with little trouble and expense. But as 
among the Israelites, the fairest of the flocks, and 
the finest of the fruits were offered in sacrifice — 
and that which cost nothing was not accepted; so 
perhaps only by offering up his own will a sacrifice 
to the Highest — only by taking up a heavy cross, 
could he feel that he was walking in the way 
appointed, and doing the will of the Father. 

And this conversation has reminded me of the 
prophet by the river Chebar, who was commanded 
to make no lamentation for the dead, though the 
^^ desire of his eyes^' should be taken away; 
neither ^^ to mourn nor weep ; to bind the tire upon 
his head ; to put his shoes upon his feet ; to cover 
not his lips ; nor to eat the bread of men.^^ All 



SISTER ruth's stories. 99 

tWs "was in such direct opposition to tlie cere- 
monious mourning of the Jews for their dead, 
that methinks I can see them coming to him, full 
of wonder and astonishment, and can hear their 
earnest request, ^^ Wilt thou not tell us what these 
things are to us, that thou doest so V^ 

Many of the counsels of the Almighty, dear 
Effie, seem strange to our limited vision ; we can- 
not see why such strange things are required of 
us, or what good can possibly result from them ; 
but it is not for finite man to reason; but holding 
fast our faith and hope, simply to obey the revealed 
will of the Lord, and follow the pointings of his 
Divine finger. And that this peculiarity of dress, 
in John Woolman's case, was in obedience to what 
he believed to be the Divine will, we have abundant 
evidence, for the change in his dress, was followed, 
to use his own words, by " great peace of mind/' 
and a more entire devotion to the work of the 
ministry. For about this time (1763) he set forth 
on a religious visit to the inhabitants of Pennsyl- 
vania; and though upon his arrival in Philadel- 
phia, he learned that the " Indians were again 
carrying on hostilities against the whites; that 
they had taken a fort from the English in the 
western part of the state ; and, that they had slain 
and scalped the English in many places, some 
even near Pittsburg;" so that the journey seemed 
9* 



100 SISTER ruth's stories. 

very perilous one, there being every probability 
of their being slain or taken captive, yet believing 
that there the path of duty lay ; having his " feet 
shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace ; 
taking the shield of faith, and the sword of the 
Spirit, which is the Word of God;'' he set his 
face toward the wilderness, ready to welcome 
either life or death. Of the hardships he and 
his companions endured, of the perils they en- 
countered, and of their interviews with the Indians, 
he has left on record some very interesting descrip- 
tions. They crossed the Lehigh river in a canoe. 
Here they met an Indian, and ^^ had some friendly 
conversation with him, and gave him some biscuit;'' 
and he having killed a deer, gave the Indians, who 
were with them as guides, a portion of it, and 
parted from him in a very friendly manner. 
^^After travelling some miles," remarks John 
Woolman, '^ we met several Indian men and 
women, with a cow and horse, and some household 
goods, who were lately come from their dwelling 
at Wyoming, and going to settle in another place ; 
we made them some small presents, and some of 
them understanding English, I told them my 
motive in coming into their country — with which 
they appeared satisfied. One of our guides talk- 
ing awhile with an ancient woman, concerning us, 
the poor old woman came to my companion and 



SISTER ruth's stories. 101 

me, and took her leave of us, with an appearance 
of sincere affection. So going on we pitched our 
tent near the banks of the same river, having 
labored hard in crossing some of those mountains, 
called the Blue Ridge; and by the roughness of 
the stones, and the cavities between them, and 
the steepness of the hills, it appeared dangerous ; 
but we were preserved in safety through the kind- 
ness of Him, whose works in those mountainous 
deserts appeared awful ; toward whom my heart 
was turned during this day^s travel. Near our 
tent, on the sides of large trees peeled for that 
purpose, were various representations of men 
going to and returning from the wars, and of some 
killed in battle. This being a path heretofore 
used by warriors ; and as I walked about viewing 
those Indian histories, which were painted, mostly 
in red, but some in black, and thinking on the 
innumerable afflictions which the proud, fierce 
spirit produceth in the world; thinking on the 
toils and fatigues of warriors travelling over 
mountains and deserts ; thinking on their miseries 
and distresses when wounded far from home by 
their enemies; and of their bruises and great 
weariness in chasing one another over the rocks 
and mountains; and of their restless, unquiet 
state of mind who live in this spirit ; and of the 
hatred which naturally grows up in the minds of 
9^ 



102 SISTER ruth's stories. 

the children of those nations engaged in war with 
each other : during these meditations the desire 
to cherish the spirit of love and peace amongst 
these people arose very fresh in me. This was 
the first night that we lodged in the woods; and 
being wet with travelling in the rain, the ground, 
our tent, and the bushes which we purposed to 
lay under, our blankets also wet, all looked dis- 
couraging; but I believed it was the Lord who 
had thus far brought me forward, and that he 
would dispose of me as he saw good, and therein 
I felt easy. "We kindled a fire with our tent open 
to it; and with some bushes next the ground, and 
then our blankets, we made our bed, and lying 
down, got asleep ; and in the morning, feeling a 
little unwell, I went into the river, the water was 
cold, but soon after I felt fresh and well.^^' At 
Wyoming they were told that an "Indian runner 
had been at the place a day or two before us, and 
brought news of the Indians taking an English 
fort westward, and destroying the people, and that 
they were endeavoring to take another; and also 
that another Indian runner came there about the 
middle of the night before we got there, who 
came from a town about ten miles above Wehaloos- 
ing, and brought news that some Indian warriors, 
from distant parts, came to that town with two 



SISTER ruth's stories. 103 

English scalps ] and told the people that it was 
war with the English/^ 

^^ Our guide took us to the house of a very ancient 
man, and, soon after we had put in our baggage, 
there came a man from another Indian house some 
distance off, and I perceiving there was a man 
near the door, went out; and he having a toma- 
hawk under his match-coat out of sight, as I ap- 
proached him, he took it in his hand. I however 
went forward, and speaking to him in a pleasant 
way, perceived he understood some English ; my 
companion then coming out, we had some talk 
with him concerning the nature of our visit to 
these parts; and then he going into the house 
with us, and talking with our guides, soon ap- 
peared friendly, and sat down and smoked his 
pipe. Though his taking his hatchet in his hand 
at the instant I drew near to him had a disagree- 
able appearance, I believe he had no other intent 
than to be in readiness, in case any violence was 
offered to him. The next day we sought out and 
visited all the Indians hereabouts that we could 
meet with, they being chiefly in one place about a 
mile from where we lodged, in all perhaps twenty. 
I expressed the care I had on my mind for their 
good, and told them that true love had made me 
willing to leave my family and friends to come and 
see the Indians, and speak with them in their 



104 SISTER HL'TII'S STORIES. 

houses. Some of tliem appeared kind and friendly 
We took our leave of these Indians, and went up 
tlie river Susquehanna about three miles, to the 
house of an Indian called Jacob January, who had 
killed his hog; and the women were making a 
store of bread, and preparing to move up the river. 
Here our pilots left their canoe when they came 
down in the spring, which was leaky, having been 
lying dry ; and being detained some hours, we had 
a good deal of friendly conversation with the 
family ; and, after eating dinner with them, made 
them some small presents. Then putting our bag- 
gage in the canoe, some of them pushed slowly up 
the stream, and the rest of us rode our horses, and 
swimming them over a creek, we pitched our tent 
a little above it, there being a shower in the even- 
ing ; and in a sense of God^s goodness in helping 
me in my distress, sustaining me under trials, and 
inclining my heart to trust in him, I lay down in 
an humble, bowed frame of mind, and had a com- 
fortable night's lodging.^^ After about a month's 
absence, he was permitted to return in safety and 
health to his dearly-loved home, and to receive the 
warm greetings of his affectionate family — the 
meeting being all the more joyous because of the 
perils and hardships which he had encountered, 
and the anxiety his family had felt on account of 



SISTER ruth's stories. 105 

the dangers which they knew were in the way^ and 
from which their love could not shield him. 

^^ Doubtless/^ said Anna, '' a song of thanks- 
giving rose that night from that re-united house- 
hold band ] for he himself expresses his gladness 
at being at home again, remarking : ^ My mind, 
while I was out, had been so employed in striving 
for a perfect resignation, and I had so often been 
confirmed in a belief that whatever the Lord might 
be pleased to allot for me would work for good, 
that I was careful lest I should admit any degree 
of selfishness in being glad over-much, and labored 
to improve by those trials in such a manner as my 
gracious Father and Protector intends for me.'^^ 

" How warm and deep,^^ said Mary, " must have 
been the afi'ection of the Indians for William Penn 
and his friends, when, after the lapse of so many 
years, and while carrying on active hostilities with 
their white brethren, they still retained so much 
confidence in the good-will and kindness manifested 
by the children of Onas towards the red-man of the 
forest, that they would receive one of these kindly 
— sharing their sometimes scanty supply of food 
with the stranger; proffering him the shelter of 
their wigwams, and listening attentively when he 
spoke of the loveliness of peace, and the evil con- 
sequences of war, not only to their foes, but to 
themselves as a people. Surely the " presence of 



106 SISTER ruth's stories. 

the Lord^ went with him in his journey through 
the wilderness, as with Moses in his long and de- 
vious wanderings in the Arabian desert, protecting 
and preserving him, leading him in a way that he 
knew not — and inclining the hearts of these savage 
denizens of the forest to his words ; for to look at 
it with the eye of human wisdom^ his preservation 
seems almost marvellous/' 



CHAPTER IX. 

" ^EAE Euth/^ said the loving little Effie, 
Mr I '^ after John Woolman had returned in 
V9n9 safety from this perilous journey, upon 
Q^") which he went forth, as one bearing his 
life in his hand, did he not, after all, die 
in a distant country, far away from home and 
kindred ? Was it not in England ? Wilt thou 
not tell us of his voyage thither ? It must have 
been a great undertaking, in those days, especially, 
when there were, comparatively, so few facilities 
for travelling, to cross the great ocean. It must 
have been very hard for him, to feel, as he ex- 
presses it, as a ' sojourner in his own habitation;^ 
hardly daring to rejoice at his safe return, and 
feeling even then, that the command would soon 
go forth to take up again his pilgrim staff and 
journey onward wherever the ^finger of Truth' 
should point the way/' 

"Doubtless, my dear sister,'' responded Euth; 
" it was greatly in the cross ; and yet my sympathy 
has flowed forth freely towards that faithful, 
devoted wife, who so cheerfully gave up her hus- 
band, to the ^work and service of the Lord;' 
10 (107) 



108 SISTER ruth's stories. 

fulfilling all her home duties ; caring for the com- 
fort and well-being of her household ; striving to 
^ train up her children in the fear of the Lord/ 
and to fill the place of father as well as mother to 
them, during the long and frequent absences of 
her husband; and yet ever ready to help him 
bear his burdens; to strengthen him with her 
loving sympathy and wise counsel. I have often 
been struck with the wisdom of the command 
given to the Israelites, that those ^ who tarry by 
the stufi"/ should share in the spoils of those who 
^went forth to the battle.^ - 

It seems to me, that the long waiting, the 
anxious suspense, the constant anticipation of 
coming evil, is more to be dreaded, than known 
danger ; for with the sense of peril, comes the 
excitement of averting or escaping it. A few 
months after his return from his religious visit to 
Pennsylvania, he was attacked with pleurisy, and 
lay dangerously ill for some time. 

In speaking of this illness, he says, ^^I was 
brought so near the gates of death, that I forgot 
my name : being then desirous to know who I 
was, I saw a mass of matter, of a dull, gloomy 
color, between the South and the East; and was 
informed that this mass was human beings, in as 
great misery as they could be, and live ; and that 
I was mixed in with them^ and that henceforth I 



SISTER ruth's stories. 109 

might not consider myself as a distinct or separate 
being. In this state I remained several hours. 
I then heard a soft, melodious voice, more pure 
and harmonious than any I had heard before. I 
believed it was the voice of an angel, who spake 
to the other angels, and the words were these, 
John Woolman is dead. I remembered that I 
was once John Woolman ; and being assured that 
I was alive in the body, I greatly wondered what 
that heavenly voice could mean. I believed 
beyond doubting, that it was the voice of a holy 
angel, but as yet it was a mystery to me. 

I was then carried in spirit to the mines, where 
poor oppressed people were digging rich treasures 
for those called Christians; and I heard them 
blaspheme the name of Christ, at which I was 
grieved ; for his name to me was precious. Then 
I was informed that these heathens were told, that 
those who oppressed them were the followers of 
Christ; and they said among themselves, ^If 
Christ directed them to use us in this sort, then 
Christ is a cruel tyrant.^ All this time, the song 
of the angel remained a mystery; and in the 
morning, my dear wife and some others coming 
to my bed-side, I asked them if they knew who I 
was; and they telling me I was John Woolman, 
thought I was light-headed ; for I told them not 
what the angel said, nor was I disposed to taU' 



110 SISTER ruth's stories. 

mucli to any one ; but was very desirous to get so 
deep that I might understand this mystery. My 
tongue was often so dry that I could not speak, 
till I had moved it about and gathered some mois-. 
ture, and as I lay still for a time, at length, I felt 
Divine power prepare my mouth that I could 
speak, and then I said, ^I am crucified with 
Christ, nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ 
liveth in me : and the life I now live in the flesh, 
I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved 
me, and gave himself for me/ Then the mystery 
was opened ; and I perceived there was joy in 
Heaven over a sinner who had repented ; and 
that, that language (John Woolman is dead) 
meant no more than the death of my own will/' 

Not long after his recovery from this illness, he 
believed that the time had fully come for him to 
prepare for his visit to England; and having 
'^ settled his outward affairs to his mind, ^ and 
taken leave of his wife and family, as never to 
return,' leaving them to the Divine protection ; 
he embarked at Chester, in the 4th month, 1772, 
in a ship called the ' Mary and Elizabeth,' bound 
for London. Samuel Emlen, Jr., a noted minis- 
ter, in the Society of Friends, had taken passage 
in the same ship, as a cabin passenger ; but John 
Woolman observing the carving upon the outside 
of the cabin, and the luxurious furnishing of the 



SISTER ruth's stories. Ill 

inside, more than ever impressed with the belief 
that it was part of his mission to be a living ex- 
ample of plainness and simplicity, told the master 
of the ship that he was not free to occupy the 
cabin ; and therefore took his place in the steerage, 
much to the regret of some of his friends, who 
knowing the discomforts of such a mode of travel- 
ling, and fearing the ill-effects of it upon him in 
his weak state of health, would fain have per- 
suaded him to take cabin passage. He was favored 
to reach England, in good health, notwithstanding 
all the bodily discomforts attendant upon such a 
voyage, and the distress of mind endured on ac- 
count of the profanity of the sailors, many of 
whom, when appealed to, personally, spoke of 
their state being one of such extreme degradation, 
that there was no hope of relief for them, and no 
resource, except drinking and swearing. On the 
8th of 6th month, 1772, he landed at London, 
and went straightway to the Yearly Meeting, 
which had convened about half an hour before. 
After the close of this meeting, he left London, 
turning his face to the northward, attending the 
meetings as they came in his way, travelling 
mostly on foot. Here again he was brought into 
suffering, on account of the hardships endured 
by the post-boys, especially during the winter, and 
in inclement weather ; they having to travel their 
10* 



112 SISTER ruth's stories. 

own particular routes, and arrive at stated places, 
at certain hours, irrespective of storm and cold — 
insomucli that sometimes their limbs were badly 
frozen, or incurable diseases brought on by the 
cold and exposure. He requested his friends not 
to send him any letters by post, preferring not to 
hear from his family, dear though they were to 
him, than to countenance in any way, this system 
of oppression. In the 9th month, 1772, having 
visited many meetings in the middle and north 
of England, and mingled much with Friends in 
their own families, breaking the bread of life, and 
handing it to these as he received it from the 
Lord of the feast, he came to York, intending to 
be present at the Quarterly Meeting held in that 
city; but before it was over, he was taken ill of 
the small-pox. 

I will read to you, my dear sisters, the account 
of the closing hours of his life, written by his 
friend Thomas Priestman, at whose house he died, 
and who appears to have watched over him ten- 
derly, and ministered to his every want. He says : 
^^His disorder appeared to be' the small-pox. Be- 
ing asked to have a doctor's advice, he signified 
he had not freedom or liberty in his mind to do 
so, standing wholly resigned to his will who gave 
him life, and whose power he had witnessed to 
raise and heal him in sickness before, when he 



SISTER ruth's stories. 113 

seemed nigh unto death^ and if lie was to wind up 
now lie was perfectly resigned^ having no will 
either to live or die^ and did not choose any should 
be sent for to him. But a young man^ an apothe- 
cary, coming of his own accord the next day, and 
desiring to do something for him, he said he found 
a freedom to confer with him and the other Friends 
about him, and if anything should be proposed as 
medicine that did not come through defiled chan- 
nels, or oppressive hands, he should be willing to 
consider and take it so far as he found freedom. 
His disorder affecting his head, he could think but 
little, and as a child, and desired if his understand- 
ing should be more affected, to have nothing given 
him that those about him knew he had a testi- 
mony against. Third day, he uttered the following 
prayer : ^^ Lord, my Grod, the amazing horrors 
of darkness were gathered around me, and covered 
me all over, and I saw no way to go forth. I felt 
the depth and the extent of the misery of my 
fellow-creatures, separated from the Divine har- 
mony, and it was heavier than I could bear, and 
I was crushed down under it. I lifted up my 
hand, I stretched out my arm, but there was none 
to help me. I looked round about and was amazed. 
In the depths of misery, Lord, I remembered 
that thou art omnipotent, that I had called thee 
Father, and felt that I loved thee, and I was made 



114 SISTER ruth's stories/ 

quiet in thy will, and I waited for deliverance 
from thee. Thou hadst pity upon me when no 
man could help me. I saw that meekness under 
suffering was showed to us in the most affecting 
example of thy Son, and thou taught me to follow 
him, and I said thy will, Father, be done." 

Fourth day morning, being asked how he felt, 
he meekly answered, ^' I don't know that I have 
slept this night. I feel the disorder making its 
progress, but my mind is mercifully preserved in 
stillness and peace.'' Some time after he said he 
was sensible the pains of death must be hard to 
bear, but if he escaped them now, he must some 
time pass through them, and he did not know that 
he could be better prepared, but had no will in it. 
He said he had settled his outward affairs to his 
mind, and had taken leave of his wife and family 
as never to return, leaving them to the Divine pro- 
tection, adding, '' and though I feel them near to 
me at this time, yet I freely give them up, having 
a hope that they will be provided for.'' A little 
after he said, ^^This trial is made easier than I 
could have thought, my will being wholly takers 
away ; for if I was anxious for the event, it would 
have been harder — but I am not, and my mind 
enjoys a perfect calm." In the night, a young 
woman having given him something to drink, he 
said, '' My child, thou seems very kind to me, a 



SISTEE ruth's stories. 115 

poor creature ; the Lord will reward thee for it/' 
Awhile after, he cried out with great earnestness 
of spirit, ''' Oh, my Father ! my Father !'' and soon 
after he said, "'^ Oh, my Father ! my Father ! how 
comfortable art thou to my soul in this trying sea- 
son/' Being asked if he could take a little nour- 
ishment, after some pause he replied, '' My child, 
I cannot tell what to say to it ; I seem nearly ar- 
rived where my soul shall have rest from all its 
troubles/' After giving in something to be in- 
serted in his journal, he said, '' I believe the Lord 
will now excuse me from exercises of this kind. 
I see no work but one, which is to be the last 
wrought by me in this world ; the messenger will 
come that will release me from all these troubles ; 
but it must be in the Lord's time^ which I am 
waiting for/' 

He said he had labored to do whatever was re- 
quired, according to the ability received, in the 
remembrance of which he had peace ; and though 
the disorder was strong at times, and would like a 
whirlwind come over his mind, yet it had hitherto 
been kept steady, and centred in everlasting love; 
adding, ^^ and if that be mercifully continued, I 
ask or desire no more." Another time he said, 
he had long had a view of visiting this nation, and 
some time before he came, he had a dream, in 
which he saw himself in the northern parts of it. 



116 SISTER ruth's stories. 

and that the spring of the Gospel was opened in 
him, much as in the beginning of Friends, such 
as George Fox and William Dewsbury; and he 
saw the different states of the people as ckarly as 
he ever saw flowers in a garden ; but in his going 
along, he was suddenly stopped, though he could 
not see for what end ; but looking towards home, 
fell into a flood of tears, which awakened him. 
At another time he said, ^^My draught seemed 
strongest towards the North, and I mentioned in 
my own Monthly meeting, that attending the Quar- 
terly meeting at York^ and being there, looked like 
home to me.'^ 

Fifth-day night, having repeatedly consented to 
take medicine, with a view to settle his stomach, 
but without effect, the Friend then waiting on him 
said through distress, " What shall I do now V 
He answered with great composure, " Rejoice 
evermore, and in everything give thanks ;'' but 
added a little after, " This is sometimes hard to 
come at.'^ Sixth-day morning, early, he broke 
forth in supplication in this wise : " Lord ! it 
was thy power that enabled me to forsake sin in 
my youth, and I have felt thy bruises for disobe- 
dience ; but as I bowed under them thou healed 
me, continuing a father and a friend. I feel thy 
power now, and I beg that in the approaching 
trying moment; thou wilt keep my heart steadfast 



SISTER ruth's stories. 117 

to thee.'^ Upon his giving directions to a friend 
concerning some little things, she said, ^^I will 
take care, but hope thou wilt live to order them 
thyself ;'' he replied, "My hope is in Christ, and 
though I may seem a little better, a change in the 
disorder may soon happen, and my little strength 
be dissolved, and if so it happens, I shall be 
gathered to my everlasting rest/^ 

On her saying she did not doubt that, but could 
not help mourning to see so many faithful servants 
removed at so low a time, he said, "All good cometh 
from the Lord, whose power is the same, and can 
work as he sees best/^ The same day he had 
given directions about wrapping his corpse ; and 
perceiving a Friend to weep, he said, " I would 
rather thou wouldst guard against weeping for 
me, my sister ; I sorrow not, though I have had 
some painful conflicts, but now they seem over, 
and matters well settled, and I look at the face of 
my dear Redeemer, for sweet is his voice, and his 
countenance is comely/^ 

First-day, 4th of the Tenth month, being very 
weak, and in general difficult to be understood, he 
uttered a few words in commemoration of the 
Lord's goodness, and added, " How tenderly have 
I been waited on, in this time of affliction, in 
which I may say in Job's words, ^ Tedious days 
and wearisome nights are appointed unto me/ — 



118 SISTER ruth's stories. 

and how many are spending their time and money in 
anity and superfluities, while thousands and tens 
of thousands want the necessaries of life, who 
might be relieved by them, and their distresses, at 
such a time as this, in some degree softened, by 
the administering suitable things/^ Second-day 
morning, the apothecary, who appeared very anx- 
ious to assist him, being present, he queried about 
the probability of such a load of matter being 
thrown off his weak body; and the apothecary 
making some remarks, implying that he thought 
it might, he spoke with an audible voice on this 
wise : '*' My dependence is in the Lord Jesus, who 
I trust will forgive my sins, which is all I hope 
for; and if it be his will to raise up this body 
again, I am content, and if to die, I am resigned ; 
and if thou canst not be easy without trying to 
assist nature, I submit;" after which his throat 
was so much affected, that it was very difficult for 
him to speak so as to be understood, and he fre- 
quently wrote when he wanted anything. About 
the second hour on Fourth-day morning, he asked 
for pen and ink, and at several times with much 
difficulty wrote thus : ^^ I believe my being here is 
in the wisdom of Christ; I know not as to life or 
death." About a quarter before six o'clock the 
same morning he seemed to fall into an easy sleep, 
which continued about half an hour, when seem- 



SISTER ruth's stories. 119 

ing to awake, he breathed a few times with diffi- 
culty, and expired without sigh, groan, or strug- 
gle." 

'^ Only fifty-two,'^ said Kuth, ^^ and yet to have 
accomplished so much; to have left behind him a 
name which will long be loved and honored ; and 
an influence that will be insensibly felt for untold 
generations. Truly hath the poet said— •- 

" We live in deeds, not years ; in thought, not breath ; 
In feeling, not in figures on the dial. 
We should count time by heart-throbs, when they 

beat 
For God, for man, for duty. He most lives 
Who thinks most, feels noblest, acts the best. 
Life is but a means unto an end — that end. 
Beginning, mean and end to all things, God."^ 

As I look back upon his comparatively short 
life, and see how he went on with unfaltering pur- 
pose, in weakness of body, in discouragement, 
through trials and difficulties apparently insur- 
mountable, how ashamed I feel of my lukewarm- 
ness, of my feeble efforts in behalf of the Right 
and True ; allowing myself to stumble at every 
little obstacle, and to be discouraged, because those 
around me may not think as I do. The remem- 
brance of John Woolman's energy and persever- 
ance will, I trust, nerve me to renewed diligence 
in the humble field of labor assigned me, so that 
11 



/ 

120 SISTER ruth's stories. 

I too, wlien my work here is accomplished, may 
receive the welcome plaudit of ^^ well done/^ Who 
can ponder upon the closing scene of the life of 
this good and great man, and not exclaim with 
one of old, " Let me die the death of the righteous, 
and let my last end be like his/^ 

Their loving sister, Anna, broke the solemn 
silence that followed these words, by reciting, in 
a low, earnest tone, the following 

LINES ON the death OF JOHN WOOLMAN : 

His pilgrim-staff is broken, 

His sandals laid aside ; 
And full of joy and triumph, 

He's crossed the swelling tide. 

For though to him, the summons 
Came ere the evening time — 

Before his head was covered 
With Autumn's hoary rime ; 

Yet glad, he heard the message, 
''Come to the Blessed Shore, 

Thy work is now accomplished, 
Thy pilgrimage is o'er.'* 

For toilsome was the journey — • 

A rough and devious way; 
Oft through the lonely deserts, 

And o'er the hills, it lay. 



SISTER RTjTIl's STORIES. 121 

And onward he went weeping, 
With others' griefs bowed low ; 

From mom till even, pleading, 
*< Oh ! let the captive go !" 

For in his ears was ringing, 

The cry from Afric's land; 
And sounds of bitter wailing 

Were heard on every hand. 

To plead for these, his mission. 

The suffering and the weak ; 
To visit those in prison — 

And for the dumb to speak. 

And in the field appointed, 

He labored long and well — ' 
The conflict ne'er gave o'er. 

Till at his post he fell. 

His pilgrim-staff is broken, 

His sandals laid aside — 
And full of joy and triumph, 

He's crossed the swelling tide 

And done with toil forever, 

He's entered on his rest, — 
The heavenly "rest" remaining, 

For those the Lord hath blest I 



THE END. 



